


Fey - The Equilibrium

by Jess_eklom



Category: Gundam Wing
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Fluff, M/M, Magic, Too Much Talking
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-14
Updated: 2017-04-17
Packaged: 2018-09-08 14:06:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 15
Words: 58,020
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8847979
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jess_eklom/pseuds/Jess_eklom
Summary: Trowa is a young elf, a lowly foot soldier, and part of the guards that protect the Equilibrium. With the passing of The One, he, among others, is tasked with finding the new Equilibrium and return them to their rightful place in the Temple of the Fey. He never thought he'd be the one to find the next Equilibrium, but when he meets a boy at a small Inn during his travels, he knows he's fulfilled his mission. What he didn't expect, however, was for the boy to steal his heart. This is an RP-turned-Fic, co-written with Dentelle_Noir (screen name from FFN back in the day; no AO3 handle).3x4, 1x2 (eventually)





	1. The Traveler

Hi there! 

This is an RP-turned-Fic, co-written with Dentelle_Noir (screen name from FFN back in the day). It will be rather slow-going, and we ended the RP without completing the story, so I have my work cut out for me. I'm taking feedback, as I'm editing and fleshing out the plot as I go, so please feel free to comment on it. 

This is or ShenLong, who asked so nicely for me to share more from DN's and my RP archive. >^.^<

~~~~~

**Prologue  
**

It was a day of mourning for the elves, and all the fey. The Equilibrium that had ruled the magical lands had finally passed after a millenia of keeping the balance. The Gold Leaves were given the task of carrying her to the altar before the temple and the highest order of mages were tasked to perform the rites. 

The guards of the temple, all three circuits of them, were assembled in a loose semi-circle, facing the altar, beyond which the Fey folk were all gathered, watching as the wooden pod that served as a casket disappeared into the night sky like so many fireflies. 

They would all observe the Silence of the Night, and the next day they would all mourn, but then the guards had a job to do. 

With the passing of one Equilibrium, another would be born, and it was the job of the guards to find The One. It was imperative to do so quickly, though. If the Equilibrium became tainted, the next millennia would be one of  bloodshed and chaos, and the older The One became, the more they were in danger of falling prey to death or corruption. 

~~

**Chapter 1 - The Traveler**

Rumors filtered into the town that a healer would be coming through soon. They said he was a traveler, and young looking, but had been able to cure almost anything from blindness to stuttering! It was said that the healer only stayed a few nights in any given village and would be gone quickly, and he never announced himself. People always came to him; drawn to what he could do.  

The rumor that this healer was coming to their little town grew over the next two days. Travelers often came through the town, and tonight was no different.

Trowa came in on a large roan horse, with his traveling cloak flowing behind him and hiding his face with the hood. He had a very delicate way of walking and holding himself. Something about him seemed odd, no matter where he went. Many thought he was a noble, and very few got close enough to see the slight point to his ears that told the real story.

He walked into an inn late in the night. The ride had taken longer than he expected, but Trowa didn't mind. He quite enjoyed the night sky. One of his hobbies had been to watch the stars, something he used to do with The One before... But she was gone now. Had been gone for years, but another had taken her place.

He was out on the search now. He had been for months, but so far, he’d come up empty.

Trowa walked to the stables, where he handed the reins to his mount to a sleepy-looking stable boy, then went inside. The Inn was rather empty, which was not surprising. There were a few people sitting around the far table, playing dice games and drinking, but it didn’t look overly crowded. After a cursory glance, he headed to the desk, and waited to be seen. He was quiet, and often unseen at first.

Quatre had been in the back, cleaning up yet ANOTHER spill he'd made and was in a HUGE hurry because he knew a customer was waiting. He managed to finish up and walking into the main room wiping his hands, he went straight for the front counter, "I am SO sorry, I hope I didn't make you wait too long," he said. He was flustered, but he had on a brilliant smile that distracted one from his dirtied apron, the stain on the sleeve of his cream colored linen shirt, that had been rolled up to his elbow, and the disheveled bright blonde hair that the young man impatiently pushed away with the back of his hand.

As Trowa waited, he looked around, noting the broken bell above the door. He had been prepared to rap on the hardwood counter to get someone’s attention when the young man came out, which Trowa found passing odd. To his knowledge, there hadn’t been anyone that had gone to the kitchens to tell him someone was waiting to be seen.

"What can I do for you?" the blond asked pleasantly, tucking the rag into his apron, already getting a large mug of cool, fresh water served up for him.

Trowa smiled softly. "I'd like a room, please. I'll be staying a few nights," he said quietly, his voice soft and rumbling like a waterfall. He was dressed plainly, but everything he had was of good quality. A leather jerkin dyed green and tan breeches underneath the thick black traveling cloak. He also wore a simple silver earring with some sort of symbol on it that Quatre couldn’t quite make out just yet.

"That's a beautiful earring," Quatre said before he could catch himself. Embarrassed, he quickly looked away and hurriedly began writing in the ledger, "Name please?"

"Trowa" He said quietly, and seemed to smile just a little at making the blonde blush. "And you?" he asked back.

“Quatre," he smiled, trying not to look too flustered as he wrote the name down and handed Trowa the large key with a wooden tag tied to it with a bit of twine, “Room 3 is yours. It'll be five copper a night."

Trowa took the key, and handed over the copper. "Where can a hungry traveler find some food, sir?" he asked. The smell of bread was getting the better of him, and he dearly hoped that the kitchen wasn’t closed for the night.

“One meal is included with each night's fee. Do you have any bags? I can help you get them upstairs, then I'll have my sister fix you a plate."

"No bags, but some food would be nice" He said, and then smiled a little bit mischievously, "Perhaps you'd consider eating with me, Quatre?" He asked. Then he blinked, "That was very bold... I am sorry, I don't quite know what came over me."

Quatre looked around and looked down at his ledger, "... It's a slow evening... I... I could spare a little while to dine with a customer, I suppose..." he said, looking surprised at himself. "Let me just make sure no one needs me in the back. Please, make yourself comfortable, I'll be out with your meal soon."

Trowa walked to the sitting area of the inn and chose a table near the fire. Quatre had already poured some water for him, so he took it and sipped quietly.

He knew it was a matter of time before word that he was here would circulate soon. By tomorrow, he wouldn't be able to enjoy a quiet meal because people would be asking for his healing herbs and the like. Best enjoy the quiet while he could. And tonight he could enjoy it with a handsome inn-keep.

There was a crash in the kitchen and a yelp, then a lady came out with two plates and two mugs of mead and set them before Trowa.

"My brother will be out soon,” she said, placing the dishes and cups down on the table Trowa occupied with a little more force than necessary. “WHY you want to have that boy as your dining partner, I'll probably never know, but thank you for inviting him and getting him OUT of my kitchen," she huffed before walking off. A moment later, Quatre came back out, looking a little more disheveled than he had been previously, and quite embarrassed.

Trowa found himself laughing a little. It was very uncommon to find anyone so clumsy where he was from. Almost all elves had an internal grace and serenity about them that radiated calm. Humans rather amused him in their speed. When Quatre emerged, Trowa snorted in laughed, upsetting his hood a little, showing off a bit more of his face then he realized, his ears becoming slightly visible, "What happened?"

"... I knocked over the bag of potatoes... then hit my head on the hanging pots when I scrambled to keep the potatoes from spilling all over the floor and knocked them over. Amile told me to pick up the pots and pans I knocked over and right the potatoes then get out of her kitchen," he said sheepishly as he sat - and stared, "I... I've never met an elf before."

Trowa looked startled, then pulled his hood back up, "I would prefer if you keep that to yourself" he said. He waited a moment for a reaction, then seemed to relax, "You are not afraid of me.” It wasn’t a question. “Most humans think me too odd to bear."

"... Afraid? No. You're not one to be feared... in fact, you should probably be the one to be afraid.” Quatre picked up his fork and played with his mashed potatoes for a moment, averting his eyes, “I'm... cursed, you see..."

Trowa leaned in, looking interested, "Really? Did you know that I happen to be well a well-known healer of all things? Maybe even curses," he purred, flirting a little. He couldn't put his finger on why, but he felt so comfortable with the blond.

Quatre perked up, "I heard rumors about you - that you were coming this way - but I doubt you'd be able to cure my insufferable clumsiness."

Trowa raised an eyebrow, he was quite intrigued at the prospect of learning about this boy’s supposed curse. "Oh? Clumsiness? Hmm. Let me see your hands" he said in a rather commanding, though gentle tone, "Tell me why you think it's a curse? Talk to me about your problem.” His eyes --such a deep green before-- began to show speckles of gold as he let magic filter into his sight.

Quatre put his hands on the table, palms up, glad that he’d washed his hands, again!, before coming to sit at the table. "I've always been clumsy... and... odd. I can tell things... things I shouldn't know, and sometimes, when I try to blend in more with the people around me, the clumsier I get and the more things – thoughts, knowledge, feelings - fly into my head. People call me a jinx."

Power. Trowa could see it already, spiraling around the man in front of him, tightly coiled and binding his hands tightly. Trowa made sure to keep his hands away, careful not to spark the energy. He blinked until his eyes came back to green, "Who are your parents?" he asked carefully, watching the man warily. Without knowing what kind of magic the boy had, it would be dangerous for an elf to carelessly use his magic on him. If his magic was incompatible, with the boy’s power being so tangled and strained the way it was, setting it off without understanding it could be dangerous – not just for them, but potentially all the people in the building.

“I never knew my mother... but her name was Catherine... Father is Omar Winner. He owns half the Inns in town."

"Both humans," he said as if surprised, and then he reached out to touch his palms. It shouldn’t be so dangerous if both parents were human. He had intended to help untangle some of the lines of magic, feeling confident that his magic wouldn’t be rejected, but as soon as he touched the first strand, he felt a jolt as their magic  _ sparked _ . Light poured from both of them, blowing Trowa’s cloak back and upsetting the drinks on the table. Trowa could feel the strings not just untangle, but pour into Trowa’s hands before pouring back out.

The wave of magic that flowed through him was more than he expected. Much more. He concentrated, a light sheen of sweat dampening his forehead as he helped channel the magic without draining the human in front of him. It was a rush unlike he’d ever felt before, and felt like an eternity, when suddenly, the magic pouring through him stopped.

Quatre didn't even realize what had happened. He immediately began righting the upended drinks and wiping the table down with the rag he fished out of his apron, "I am SO sorry! This happens ALL the time, did any get on you?" He was too busy being mortified that he didn’t notice the dazed look on the elf’s face.

Trowa brought his hands away, shocked, "Are YOU alright?" His hands were still tingling with the surge of power that had poured through him and his heart pounded in his chest from the adrenaline, and yet the small blond seemed nonplussed.

Quatre looked up at him, slightly confused at the question. That’s when he noticed the look that the elf was giving him, which made him look down at himself, checking for an injury, "... I'm fine. Just knocked over the drinks... again. For some reason, they always upend when I'm near. It happens all the time."

Trowa couldn’t believe his ears. Had the boy not felt that? He brushed the fall of soft roan hair that had fallen over half his face aside, fruitlessly, and slowly put the hood of his cloak back on, "...Quatre... You are very magical... when I touched you, your magic reacted... That could have killed someone." And he was an idiot for touching that magic without asking more questions!

Quatre paused in what he was doing, wiping up the mess from the table, trying to catch it before it dribbled down onto the bench, "Magical? Me?" he laughed a little, then went back to cleaning the spilled ale. "That's impossible. I'm human."

Trowa put a hand on his forearm, stopping his movements. He was ready this time, in case they’d sparked again, but he was also very careful to avoid the threads of magic that only elfin eyes could see. "Put you hand up, and watch" he instructed, holding his own hand up so they could touch palm-to-palm.

Quatre looked at him incredulously, clearly, he thought the whole notion was silly and a waste of time, but the there was something about Trowa that made him want to do as he was bid. There was an intensity in those deep green eyes flecked with cold that made him hesitate for only a moment before he reached out, putting his palm to Trowa's.

A bright, soft warm light shone from their palms as the magic worked through them. Trowa smirked as if to say 'told you so'. It took more control than he was willing to admit to keep his hand steady, Quatre’s magic was so strong, but Trowa felt it was worth it. He’d found a powerful magic user who’d lived his entire life bound by his own magic!

Quatre looked startled as his palm began to glow, "... Are you doing that?” His first impulse was to pull his hand away, but there was something keeping him from doing so.

"No, and yes. I have magic, and your magic is reacting with it. It is not a power, and not a trick. It is just happening." the colors began to dim a little, "And now our powers have become acquainted, so the reaction is diminished. You had a lot of power wound around you. Probably the cause of your clumsiness" He said. He had been able to feel a tug towards the blonde from the moment he'd walked into this inn. Trowa had chalked the pull to physical attraction; the boy was pretty, even by elf standards, but the feeling persisted. Usually, he had enough control to stamp out physical urges, but this was different, and the tug was getting stronger.

Quatre pulled his hand away and looked at it. He examined the palm, and fingers, then looked at the other. Nothing seemed different, despite the warm glow that had emanated from his skin only moments ago.

"... So... I AM cursed?" he asked, frowning.

Trowa hummed pensively, "I ...don't THINK so, no... You are gifted," he said softly. "Please, sit? We can talk about it." He was reluctant to let go of his hand, but did so, and only a moment later the lady of the inn walked out to see what the problem was. Trowa was surprised to note that he seemed to be more aware of people around him when he was touching Quatre.

Quatre grabbed a tray and put the sopping rag and cups onto it. Luckily, dinner had been left unharmed. He took a seat after he finished cleaning up the spilled drinks and cringe when his sister saw the mess. She gave an irritated huff, "QUATRE!!" then stomped off to retrieve the tray from their table and get them refills. She gave Quatre a dirty look and moved back into the kitchen, hoping Quatre hadn't damaged the cups.

As soon as she left, Trowa moved his hand over the table-- and miraculously it was clean. He smirked a little, and leaned towards Quatre, "I got quite good at that. The lady at our temple was horrible for clumsiness when her bonded was away."

"Tell me about where you're from?” Quatre asked, marveling at the now-clean (and dry!) table with no trace of stickiness anywhere. “I never go anywhere."

Trowa normally never spoke of it, but he couldn't seem to even THINK of denying Quatre anything, "It is a temple, deep in the fey. All around it grows trees that reach up to the sun-- literally, the branches move and praise the sun every morning." He started, pushing his chair a little nearer to Quatre, "We live as part of the forest, so our houses and the trees co-exist. We live inside trees some of us, some in stone houses that twist up high, not in straight lines like human houses, but in elegant curls, around the natural growth of the forest. And elf language sounds like the wind in the trees, or a slow waterfall." He hummed, then said in elvish- which humans did not understand, the sounds were too subtle for human ears -- "You are beautiful."

Quatre blushed deeply, and looked around, afraid someone had overheard - which they hadn't. No one else was there. The men that had been playing dice had left - probably not long after the drinks had gone flying. "You should not say those things! Especially not in a public place!" he whispered, looking frightened and scandalized at the same time.

Trowa’s brows shot to his hairline, "Say what things? I only whispered in elvish…and there are no other elves here" he said carefully, warily.

Quatre sat back in his seat, looking around, still afraid that someone was in earshot. "Is this a trick?" he asked warily, "I heard what you said as plainly as I’ve heard you all evening. I heard no elvish and I've never met one of you before." This had to be some sort of ruse. Yes, Quatre was a rather effeminate young man, and he’d endured his fair share of teasing, but this was simply going too far.

Bright green eyes narrowed at the tone; Trowa didn’t like to be challenged in a way that made him look like a liar. "Call your sister over, and I will prove it to you" he said sharply, slightly offended, "I do not lie."

Quatre paled at the request, clasping his hands in his lap, looking for all the world like a scolded child. "I don't want to annoy her," he said quietly, calming down a bit, "... say something again?"

Trowa nodded, and hummed, "In my world, we light our houses with flames that float in the air without need of a candle." His voice was soft, melodious, like the soft sounds of a brook in the green light of the forest. 

Quatre was entranced. "... That sounds beautiful," he whispered, imagining the sight of candleless flames floating in the air. It made him think of fireflies, but again, he didn’t really notice that Trowa was speaking elvish. 

Trowa, on the other hand, seemed very surprised and leaned back a little in his chair. "...Perhaps...because we just exchanged powers…” he mused, “This... Is very odd." Quatre was rather puzzling. He was a human with strong magic, the like had been difficult for even Trowa to channel, that bound his physical body to the extent that it interfered with the boy’s physical world, and he understood elvish without batting an eyelash. 

"I am not an elder,” Trowa began, leaning his forearms on the heavy wooden table, “I am quite ignorant in comparison to many others of my people, I... I have to admit that I’ve never heard of this happening before... You are SURE you're human?"

Quatre nodded, "Like I said, I never met my mother, but yes, I'm sure... I've never left this city before."

"Your mother didn't cheat on your father with a traveler or something?" Trowa asked curiously, which probably wasn't the kindest thing to say, but he didn't mean any ill with it. There had to be a reason for Quatre’s magic. 

Quatre felt his fury rise, his hands suddenly braced firmly on the wood of the solid table to keep him from attacking the elf. "You take that back!" Quatre hissed, his body vibrating from trying to contain his ire. "My mother never did anything of the sort!"

Trowa felt the man's anger like a dagger plunging into his chest. The searing hot pain making him double over clutching his chest and panting in pain that he couldn't stop. Not even with his skill. This was a magical attack, albeit a raw one, and one he didn’t see coming. 

"I-I didn't- FUCK- mean ill! Just confused!" he pleaded, the anger digging right into his soul. He felt the anger clawing at him, gutting him, making it hard to breathe, to think, to speak. 

Meanwhile, Quatre was oblivious to what he was doing. He was so angry at the insinuation that his mother had ever betrayed her husband. “My mother loved my father very much! She did everything she could to give him a son! Never speak ill of her again!" Quatre snapped. It was only then that he realized that the elf was in pain. He was doubling over and begging Quatre to stop with all his soul. He suddenly had the sick realization that he was hurting the elf somehow, and tried to stamp down on his anger as concern started to flood in. "... What's wrong?" he asked, concern and fear overriding his anger for the time being. 

Trowa felt the searing pain in his chest dissipate as quickly as it had come and finally managed to breathe. He looked up at the blonde, shocked. Only his lady had been able to send her guards to the floor in anger. Her magic so much a part of them that it was like their own souls were angry with them. Trowa slowly stood, green eyes fixed on the concerned blue gaze that looked up at him. He moved to stand before the smaller man and then bent down to one knee, bowing his head.

The elf’s odd behavior startled Quatre. He hadn’t expected the man to drop to his knee - had he hurt him that much? 

"Trowa? Trowa! What's wrong?! What happened? Are you okay?" he asked sounding panicked. He fell on his knees as well, feeling very, very alarmed. “Did I hurt you? Are you unwell? I’ll help you to your room…”

But Trowa just shook his head and looked up at him, "...You... You... You may be the one I was seeking...:" he said in awe. Years of searching, and here he was - the boy who may replace his lady. 

"... You're looking for me?" Quatre asked, incredulously. “You don’t even know me.” He sighed and backed up a little, giving the man room to breathe, "Are you sure you're okay? I'll help you up to your room... you must be very exhausted... your travels must be wearing on you."

"I am not weary! I am giving you honor!" He said, keeping his kneeling position. 

"Come on, up you go," Quatre smiled, taking the man’s arm and helping him up. "I'm just an Innkeeper's son and you need rest," he told him, helping him up to his feet. He brushed off the man’s knees and fussed with his cloak. He always fussed when he was nervous. 

Quatre was beginning to understand why people feared the elves if they were all as erratic as this one. 

Trowa allowed him, just to alleviate the tenseness he could sense in Quatre. Trowa switched to elvish language, "I felt the tug from you, but I thought I was just attracted to you. You are very handsome, but your power,” he shivered. “You might just be the Equilibrium! I never thought that I could possibly find you! I am the lowest of the guard! A child! I never imagined it would be me, of all the guards, to find you first." It was a heady thought, now that he’d put it into words. Who would have thought that he, Trowa Barton, member of the third circuit, would be the one to find their next Equilibrium?

Quatre laughed a bit and shook his head, grabbing the key that Trowa had left on the table. "You don't look like a child... you look a little older than me," Quatre said, leading Trowa up the set of stairs to the second floor, where his room was. He felt much better now that he knew he was helping.

"I am 90 years old" he said, letting Quatre lead him, rather occupied with other things, "but in comparison I am so young! You could be the One! The one we've all been looking for! I need to take you to the high temple! They will know!"

The room was small, but fairly well appointed. There was a bed that looked to be in good shape, a fireplace, a desk and a chair, as well as a bench for one to put their belongings on. Quatre propped the door open, then moved into the room, turning the bed down and opening the small window for Trowa to get some air. 

"Ninety? You look very good for being that old!" Quatre smiled as he turned and guided Trowa sit in the chair in the room... then paused when he heard Trowa speak of the temple, "... You want me to come with you?"

Trowa started upwards, "You must! If you are the One you will be in danger! It is my duty to protect the One! Please! Come with me, Quatre! The men of the temple will know for sure. It is a month's journey... I will take care of you, though! You wanted to leave the city, didn't you? I can bring you to so many beautiful places!" Suddenly, the idea that this one - this potential Equilibrium - would not come with him hit him like a sledgehammer. He wouldn’t be able to leave the boy at this inn and he couldn’t stay too long either. While some people clamored to him for healing, there were many more who were fearful or mistrustful of elves. He couldn’t stay anywhere for very long outside the Fey realm. 

Quatre moved away from him to start a small fire in the fireplace, knowing it would get chilly that night, "And if I'm not the one you're looking for? What then?"

"Then... then you will have traveled all the way to the Fey and given such lovely memories! I would bring you home, escort you safely. Or help you. You have so much magic, though! You may want to stay with us, in the Fey" he was starting to babble, his words getting away from him, "I will take care of you!" Trowa know his voice had taken on a hint of desperation, but he couldn’t help it. He couldn’t afford for this boy to turn him down. 

"You'd bring be back if I didn't belong there?" Quatre asked, wanting to be sure.

"Yes! On my life!" He swore, putting a hand over his chest in an oath.

Quatre bit his lip, "You should rest... I think you're very tired. We can talk about it in the morning if you'd like." 

Quatre wasn’t sure how much he believed, and how much was elvish trickery. His sisters often had quite a bit to say about elvish trickery. He gave the room one more surveying glance and nodded to himself, placing the key on the desk. “Right, it’s high time for bed,” he decided, then moved to close the window, now that the room didn’t feel so stuffy. “I’ll see you in the morning,” he smiled, moving towards the door, ready to bid his guest goodnight. 

"No! Please! Do not leave! It is my duty to protect you!" Trowa moved in front of the door, blocking Quatre’s path, arresting the smaller man’s flight. "...Please, Quatre?" 

Belatedly, he realized then how creepy he was acting and took a step away from the door, forcing himself to cool down, "Apologies. Perhaps... You... you can think on it tonight... That is…reasonable..." he forced himself to say.

Quatre had looked rather startled when Trowa wouldn't let him leave but nodded a little when Trowa agreed to give him until morning, "... I will see you in the morning," he said softly, edging around him to get to the door, "Goodnight."

"Goodnight" Trowa blessed him as he left, then weaved a complicated protection spell around the inn, making sure that nothing evil could penetrate it.

Quatre was none the wiser and went about doing his evening tasks before going to bed, hardly sparing a thought to the crazy elf in room three. 


	2. Decisions over Breakfast

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An odd breakfast indeed; Quatre makes a decision regarding the elf's proposition

 

~Chapter 2~

The next morning, Quatre woke, early as usual, and couldn't help thinking about the strange man's proposition. He had to really think about this... did he want to leave his home? For what? Because he'd been told he was special?

Special. Not Cursed.

The thought was so foreign to him, but it held great promise. Not a day in his life had gone by where he wasn’t reminded of how he was different. He hated being ‘cursed’; he’d been a burden on his family, all the people he’d loved, his entire life.

The chickens outside were beginning to stir, and Quatre knew it was time to get out of bed. He dressed quickly in brown breeches, a cream colored linen shirt, and a waistcoat before stuffing his socked feet in his boots. He washed his face and hands then looked up at his reflection on the mirror that hung above the wash basin as he dried off.

“Don’t be silly, Quatre. Some elf comes in and tells you you’re special and you eat it up? You’re not that delusional. Just because he has beautiful eyes and a handsome face, you’re ready to believe his tricks?” he laughed at himself and hung the hand towel on the hook beside the mirror.

“You need to get to work,” he told himself firmly, grabbing his apron on the way out of his room.

He went into the kitchen, starting the fires for the day’s breakfast when he heard a noise behind him. He was so lost in his musings that the sound made him jump bumping against something with his elbow. So it begins, he thought, wryly, attempting to catch whatever he’d knocked over.

Iria hurried into the kitchen, annoyed that she’d overslept a bit and knowing she’d have to hurry to get the fires going. She’d already gone to feed the chickens and collected a good dozen or so eggs which were nestled in the straw-lined basket she carried. She walked into the kitchen, a few minutes behind Quatre and let out a startled noise when she saw him, surprised that he was there first.

The sound made her brother jump, knocking her favorite cast iron pan; the one she never let Quatre touch. She tried to make a dive for the pan, reaching out with her hand, though she was much too far away to make it in time, "Don't drop the--" But Quatre didn't drop the pan.

Instead, he saved it. Plucking it out of the air with nary a thought and set it back where it belonged before going back to stoking the fire that warmed the stove.

Flabbergasted, Iria approached, at her brother strangely. She couldn’t believe what she’d just witnessed. "...Are you okay today, Quatre?" She asked as she approached.

“I’m fine,” Quatre said, closing the grate that kept the fire and embers under the cook top and away from feet and legs. “Shouldn’t I be?” he asked curiously. “I’m sorry, I was daydreaming again - I didn’t break anything, did I?” he asked, looking around him to make sure he hadn’t made a mess without knowing it.

Iria watched him carefully. Something was different, but she couldn’t put her finger on it. Grabbing an egg from her basket, she handed it to Quatre. Just to test it. The boy had never had much luck holding an egg for any amount of time. She watched him, having given him the _one_ egg to hold onto and waited.

Nothing happened.

It didn’t explode, or slip from his fingers, or crack in his hand.

Quatre took the egg and held it. When Iria did nothing but watch him, he looked at her curiously. "What’s this? You're going to let me cook?" he asked, jokingly as he took the egg to the pan. When she didn’t stop him, he cracked it open with one hand and dropped it onto the hot surface then tossed the shell into the garbage pit in one fluid movement. Graceful. Something he'd never been... and yet, it seemed like he'd been doing that all his life.

Iria's eyes were wide as saucers and she just watched in sheer awe. Quatre had never in his life walked into a room without dropping something, breaking something, or knocking something over, and now her brother was deftly making breakfast. And not only had he managed to get all of the egg in the pan, he’d also not caught his apron on fire.

As Iria watched, another person joined them in the kitchen. Keeping to the doorway almost protectively, the elf watched the goings on. He’d come in silently and unobtrusively. He knew Inn guests shouldn’t be in the kitchens, but there was no way Trowa was letting the small blond out of his sight.

Quatre’s hands moved fluidly, making breakfast - feeling another person in the room, he took a few more eggs from Iria and added them to the pan. He made up the eggs, bacon and even toast - all at once, as if he'd done so every morning of his life. When he finished up, he  plated up three sets of breakfast ... then paused.

He looked at the three plates before him, then looked down at his hands - they were steady - and then looked up at his sister, "... Did that just happen?”

She nodded dumbly, then took the plates from him. She turned to go to the dining room, and saw Trowa in the door. She let out a scream, her hands jerking upwards when the silent-man's presence shocked her.

She had been prepared for the familiar sound of plates crashing to the floor when Quatre caught the plates before she dropped them. Once the plates were safe, Quatre looked up at the elf and smiled, "Oh Trowa! We were just bringing you breakfast."

Trowa nodded once, and then slid away from the door. He followed Quatre into the dining room, barely leaving more than a scant few inches between them, as if worried something would happen if he weren't within arm’s reach of the blonde. "Did you think about my proposition, Quatre?" he asked quietly in elvish.

"What?" Iria asked, walking right before the pair, frowning, "Sorry, we only speak our language."

At the same moment, Quatre blushed and nodded, "... I've been thinking about it all morning...” he said, without skipping a beat. As the night before, he’d no reason to believe that Trowa was speaking anything other than the common tongue. He had no idea that Trowa was speaking anything but!

At Quatre’s answer, Iria turned, staring the two men down with hands on her hips. The traveler, so quiet and aloof yesterday, was wearing just a jerkin and breeches, the shift partially undone, and stood so close to Quatre he could easily reach out and hold him. He was staring at him intensely and speaking in an odd tongue, and Quatre, for some unknown reason, was responding and didn't seem perturbed by his closeness! She had always known her brother to be _odd,_ but this was a little much!

Suddenly, something quite obvious clicked in her head, "QUATRE!!" she scolded, grabbing his arm and YANKING him away from Trowa, and miraculously, he did not drop the plates. She glared at Trowa as if he were a horrible thing, "How DARE you sully my darling brother you BRUTE!"

Quatre nearly fell over with the unexpected force of her pull, but managed to keep his balance, "Iri! Stop! He just asked me a simple question... nothing's going on."

Iria stared at Trowa, whose hand was now on the hilt of a dagger, partially taken out, and glaring angrily at Iria, “...Un...hand... him... Now..." He growled out, eyes flashing dangerously, glowing slightly gold as his magic poured out around them to form a protective barrier.

Iria froze, her hand still on Quatre, holding on tightly to his arm and getting between the two men, standing protectively in front of Quatre. She didn’t back down, even though she knew the man before her was formidable.

Quatre pulled his arm away from Iria, annoyed at her coddling, “Honestly, Iri! There’s nothing going on. He... was on a quest... and he thinks he found the thing he was questing for."

"I thought he was a healer!" She snapped, rounding on Quatre, her emotions around her whirled into a frenzy of fear. She looked back at the tall man she was protecting Quatre from,  "Why's he look like thaa-- HIS EARS! Oh my GOD!" 

Trowa still hadn't calmed down yet, his guard instincts were warring with his common sense and right now he saw her as a danger to Quatre.

"Iri! Calm down," Quatre soothed, putting the plates down and laying his hands on her shoulders, "He's not going to hurt me or you or anyone else... he thinks I have the thing he was sent to look for... either that or that I AM the thing he was sent to look for. I'm not quite sure... please... just calm down and try to understand," he soothed, knowing he was always able to make her settle when she went off like that. “He won’t hurt either of us… he’s just trying to protect me - even from you,” said, petting her long blonde hair. “He wants to keep me safe, just like you do.”

Iria settled, and let herself be put into a seat. Trowa sheathed his dagger, and allowed the One's power to calm him too. He walked over to the table and sat, across from Iria... making it sure that Quatre would have to sit directly within arm’s reach. Trowa looked at her, which made her cower just a little in fear. His ears were the sole focus of her attention for the time being.

"I am sorry for startling her... I am a guard…” Trowa said, calmly as he settled into his seat, but wanting to explain himself to the handsome blond that now sat beside him. “I do not take threats to important people lightly.” He took a moment to breathe, then looked up at the woman that sat across from him, “Please do not yank Quatre around like that again," he asked, though it was more of a warning.

Quatre pushed the plate of food towards him, "You, eat." He then turned to Iria, "I... really don't think I'm this "One" he thinks I am... but the only way to find out is to travel with him to the Fey temple... it's a month's journey." He knew his sister would be against the idea, and he braced himself for it.

"You aren't seriously considering following this psycho stranger away from home, are you?!" Iria gasped, dropping the fork she’d only just picked up. “You don’t know a THING about this man! AND he’s an ELF! You can’t trust his lot! Quatre, please, you can’t seriously be considering such craziness…” she implored, putting a hand on Quatre’s forearm.

"... Did you see me this morning?” Quatre asked, picking up his fork and pushing his eggs around the plate, “I didn't drop or smash or break a single thing! I've never gone a day in my life without at least tripping over myself ONCE within the first hour of waking.” He stopped his fidgeting and looked up at his sister with big, pleading soft blue eyes, “He says I belong with the fey… I have to know if that’s true."

Trowa managed to restrain sticking his tongue out at the woman and saying 'so there!' but he had seriously considered it. Instead, he poked at his breakfast, eating quietly. Iria didn't look comfortable, "...Don't make this decision hastily... Think on it... For, um... a week! Yes! Stay here, at home, for a week! Until Sabby comes back, you'll want to say goodbye to her, won't you? Think on it for that long so Sabby can talk some sense-- I mean, so you can say goodbye!"

"A week more will make us a week later at the temple..." Trowa said quietly. Honestly, he didn’t think he could stay in a human village for a whole week. He’d already drawn enough attention, and he’d no intention of drawing more. The elf guards had already spent nearly two decades looking for the next Equilibrium, and the darkness was looming in the horizon. Tensions between the races was becoming more and more strained. Unprovoked violence was becoming more commonplace. Odd occurrences were happening in nature and even the unicorns were disappearing without a trace. Every day that the Equilibrium was not seated at the Throne of the Fey, was another day that their world came closer to the darkness.

"Sabby comes back tomorrow... but I'll stay long enough to talk to her then. You have no idea how good it feels to NOT hit myself on the bedside table or the door frame, or stub my toe on the bed..." Quatre laughed merrily, diffusing the tension. He’d always had the ability to make the room seem lighter just by smiling or laughing, or making a quip about himself.

Iria nodded slowly, but she was getting him to wait, and for now, that was all she wanted. She had to get that damned magical traveler away and free her brother from his spell-- SOON. For now, she stood, dipping in a curtsy before taking her plate and excusing herself. She was going to eat in the kitchen-- her only way to protest Trowa's inclusion at the table. 

Trowa poked his bread-crust into the egg and dipped, then hummed, "She does not like me. But it does not matter, soon, you won't have to deal with her anymore."

"She's not someone to 'deal' with," Quatre said, annoyed, eating his own breakfast. "I love my sister... but... the reason I'm going with you is not that I like you better or her less... it's that I feel out of place. Don’t presume to make comments about my family. She wants to protect me and to her, YOU are the threat.”

Trowa felt a little 'put into his place' and slumped just a little, continuing to eat his breakfast in quiet... Not wanting to upset Quatre anymore. BUT Quatre had said he was coming with him, so Trowa counted it as a win and kept his big mouth shut. 

Immediately having said that, Quatre felt a sting in his chest. It was the same sting he somehow knew Trowa felt, and immediately knew he was responsible. He reached out, after having made sure no one was around, and put his hand on Trowa's arm. "Hey..." he whispered.

Trowa looked up at him, surprised, green eyes dancing with something Quatre couldn’t quite put a finger on, "...Yes?"

"... I don't know you yet. Iria is right on that point. But... we'll be traveling for a month, together. I... I would very much like to make a friend in the process... even if I'm not the one you're looking for."

"You are," Trowa said, solemnly. He was sure of that, but he smiled as if he knew something more, "...You are definitely something... And if you are the One, or not, you are something special and I intend to find out what. You do not belong here, with humans that don’t understand. I will give you a better life." he hummed, smiling, then added in elfish with a jealous hint, 'and THEN you'll like ME best'.

Quatre didn’t see fit to acknowledge that possessiveness just yet, and instead changed the subject, "I... hear that customs are different in the land of the Fey... I... I hope you'll teach me," he said. He blushed a little, realizing how that might be taken, then caught sight of how bright it was outside, and got to his feet. "I should get back to work. I'm going to have a busy two days now that I'm going to be leaving... and that's without even making travel arrangements!"

"You won't leave the inn, will you? And don't worry about travel arrangements, I have what is needed and what I lack I will have by the evening. I am the traveler here. Leave it to me,” Trowa said confidently, standing as well, stacking the discarded dishes for Quatre’s benefit. “I know a thing or two about making travel arrangements.”

"For the most part, no... I won’t leave the inn, but I do have to make a trip to see father at the town center and tell him that I plan to leave," Quatre said, picking up the plates, balancing them all on one hand as he wiped down the table with a rag from his apron with the other. 

"I will escort you, then. We will go together. And I will procure you a horse at the same time," Trowa suggested. He wasn’t offering, he was making a statement of intent. Hopefully, The One wouldn’t mind his being so authoritative. 

Quatre smiled a little and gave his arm a squeeze, "Go on then and do what you need to. I have a lot of work to get done today."

The emotions that had been kept tucked away in Trowa’s heart flared -- he was extremely pleased at that. He stood, and bowed once to Quatre, "I have put protections on the inn, do not leave without me at your side... but you are safe here,” he said, giving the small blond a smile. With that, Trowa went back to his room where he retrieved his cloak, and, sliding the hood up he then slipped out the door to head into town.

“Have a good day," Quatre called out, seeing Trowa make an exit as he picked up the plates at both his table, and dishes that were left behind the night before, and getting on with his own.


	3. A walk to Winner House

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone giving this fic a read! I've been out of the writing world for a long time and I'm getting back into the swing of things by converting an RP into a readable fic as a sort of springboard.

Chapter 3

It was about mid afternoon when Quatre decided it was time to go visit his father and tell him what he’d planned to do. His father’s house was in the center of town, which had the elf rather tense as he escorted Quatre through the streets. As they came closer to the center, the streets went from dusty roads, to crushed rock, to cobblestone, and at the center, a large house painted the color of sand dominated the street view. 

Trowa had already been out shopping most of the day, and he’d taken the time to scout out the area. Aside from procuring a horse for Quatre, he had also gone ahead and acquired a set of saddlebags and had filled them with supplies he knew they’d need on the trip. By his estimation, he had done a good job at gathering most of the necessary supplies for such a long trip back to the fey on ridiculously short notice. It was funny; though Trowa had been in search for The One for decades now, he’d never really thought about the practicalities of actually finding his quarry. Now that he had, Trowa found he had a whole slew of considerations that needed to be addressed. 

The entire time he was among the humans, he had been on the lookout. Not only for himself, but now for Quatre. The humans mistrusted elves - all magical creatures, really, he was used to that - but now he had a charge to protect. 

Trowa didn’t know the extent of the mistrust in this area, but he’d been on the receiving end of human scorn enough times, and by enough villagers, to know that he couldn’t afford to let the humans see his delicately pointed ears, and so he kept his hood up. Sure, he could use a glamour on himself, but that sort of frivolous magic did not come easy to him and would take up too much energy and concentration that he would rather focus on Quatre. It wouldn’t do to use his magic so carelessly. After all, in the human world, magical instances tended to attract attention and now that Quatre’s magic was unbound, there was a very real possibility that the boy would do just that. 

The walk with Quatre to his father’s house didn’t take very long. Quatre spent the time happily pointing out this shop and that - apparently, the boy had many sisters that had married into various businesses, that one to a baker, the other to a textile merchant, and so on - oblivious to how much danger he could be in. And though Trowa did his best to show interest, his attention was on their surroundings, green eyes darting at every sudden movement. 

“Do you have to walk around with your hood on?” Quatre asked suddenly. The elf was acting strangely, and was certainly on edge, but surely there was no need to be. 

Startled at the question, Trowa gave him a sharp look, “Yes,” he whispered. 

“Why?” Quatre asked curiously, waving at a lady hanging laundry from a line on a second-story window. “You attract attention that way and people are staring. Besides, it’s much too warm for such a garment. Aren’t you baking under there?” 

Trowa’s mouth quirked into a small smile. The One was asking after his well-being? “I’m honored that you care for my comfort, my lord, but I assure you, I’m fine. My cloak is special and keeps me warm when I need it to, but it also keeps me cool on warm days. I wear the hood to hide what I am. I know elves aren’t welcome in many human settlements.” 

Quatre was about to protest the title, but he was more concerned about Trowa’s estimation of humans. He frowned at the negative perception the elf had, but he did know it to be true; humans had a deep mistrust for anything and everything magical. And even when they could reap benefits, such as healing, or plentiful crops, humans were fickle. They could and would quickly turn against any magical being that had helped them. 

Such behavior on the part of humans was often rewarded with a curse, or at very least, an inconvenient prank. Quatre had grown up on countless stories of what happened when a fey’s kind gesture was returned with ingratitude. Often, the ungrateful human would suffer dire consequences. 

As a child, Quatre had often wondered why people were quick to betray fey-kind. The lesson he’d learned from those stories was to simply be kind to everyone. It didn’t seem like such a hard concept. The funny thing was, the other kids never saw it that way. They focused on the retaliation after they fey had been cheated or betrayed, and for reasons beyond his comprehension, the other children in his learning group were convinced that the fey were to be feared. 

“I suppose you’re right,” Quatre said a little forlornly after a few minutes of walking in silence. He’d been quiet for so long, in fact, that Trowa had begun to wonder if he’d said anything that had upset his charge. “Humans fear and often attack what they don’t understand.” 

Trowa felt his heart ache at the sadness radiating from the small blond by his side and instantly regretted saying anything. This human was special, Trowa could feel it, and he hated being the cause of his sadness, but only a moment later, the ache was gone and Quatre’s hand was on his shoulder. 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to bring up bad feelings,” he said, looking a little uneasy. Quatre didn’t know how, but he knew that the elf was feeling sad, and guilty, and a slew of other emotions that had yet to fully solidify. He’d even gotten the impression that his own train of thought had somehow influenced the elf’s.

Trowa gave him a reassuring smile and nod, and together they continued without saying much more until they reached the Winner house. 

Quatre hurried and opened the iron gates before turning to Trowa, “Would you like to come in, or would you rather look around?” he asked. He’d noticed that the elf was watching the people, the shops, and the general goings on; especially at the market. He’d been doing so the entire walk up to the house. “You can go look around if you’d like. I know you may have already bought all you need, but if you want to browse a bit, I shouldn’t be too long.” 

Trowa thought about it for a moment and nodded, “I think I might. I’ll set up a protection spell over the house while you’re in there before I go. If you’re finished here before I am, please don’t leave the house before I come back.”

“Really, Trowa, is that even necessary? I’ll be fine!” he smiled, clearly not thinking there was anything to worry about. In his eyes, the elf was exceedingly paranoid. What could possibly happen? He had lived in this township for his entire life and the only threat to his person was the danger he posed to himself!  

“Say that you won’t leave the grounds without me!” Trowa said, this time more sternly, holding on to the the hand that held the iron gate open, arresting Quatre’s movement. “It’s important.” 

Quatre did his best not to roll his eyes, but did nod, “Alright, I’ll stay inside the gate if I’m done before you and I won’t set foot outside until you come fetch me. Happy?”

“Thank you,” Trowa said, letting the hand go, allowing Quatre to go into the courtyard and then into the house. 

Trowa waited until the young man went inside before discretely erecting a magical barrier around the house. It was only a temporary measure, really, he needed to be near Quatre to truly protect him, but as long as he didn’t leave the protection circle, he would be safe. 

He looked over towards the busy market and though he’d already purchased his supplies, he realized that Quatre would need something on his person as a protection. In all honesty, Trowa had no intention of letting the blond out of his sight until they were back at the temple, but he was also not foolish enough to believe that he could keep Quatre within arm’s distance the entire time. It simply wasn’t practical. 

With Quatre’s safety in mind, Trowa decided that it wouldn’t hurt to look around and see if he could find something that would suit. It wouldn’t be infallible, he was only a greenling after all, but if he could find something suitable, it would give his charge a small measure of protection while allowing Trowa to know his whereabouts, within a given radius, even when he was out of sight. 

Perusing the stalls, Trowa eyed some of the wares. Nothing really seemed to jump out at him. This young man was the Equilibrium. Surely, he wasn’t wrong on that count! And as such, he deserved the best money could afford. The problem was, Trowa was an elf and he was rather short on human money, especially after having bought all those provisions earlier. Frustrated, he walked away from the stalls and toward a cluster of trees near the town square, where he could keep an eye on the Winner house. 

He was annoyed at how little money he had left, and felt a bit like a failure for not having found an adequate token to turn into a protection charm. Leaning up against a tree, he crossed his arms and tried to come up with something. 

Suddenly, he felt something hit his head, startling him out of his thoughts. 

“What in the world…?” he muttered, pushing away from the tree, looking down to see what had fallen on him, only to be distracted by chattering over his head. He pulled his hood back a bit to squint up at the branches of the tree, noting a pair of squirrels. They chattered at him, came closer, chattered again, and excitedly flicked their tails. 

“What is it, little ones?” he asked, frowning. 

The smaller of the two, came closer, his chatter sounding excited and urgent. The other one, meanwhile, threw something at Trowa’s head, which he caught deftly. 

“What is this?” he asked, holding out the acorn he’d caught, looking it over. It wasn’t anything special, though it was a very fine acorn. “Is this a gift?” he asked. 

The two squirrels chirped and circled the tree, looking down at him intently. 

“Is this for me?” he asked, looking up at them. The bigger one made a disgruntled sound and the little one seemed to give him a cold shoulder. 

“Oh, so it’s not for me. Is it for Quatre?” Trowa asked, sounding amused. It was more difficult to communicate with wildlife outside the Fey Forest, but it was possible. In truth, he’d had the idea that the pair were trying to help, but it took him a moment to figure out what they wanted. 

“You know what he is don’t you?” he asked, smiling. At the sound of an affirmative chirp, he laughed, “And you want to help protect him. Have you been watching over him very long?” he asked. The twitching of tails gave him the answer he was looking for. “I see. Well then, you know he’s leaving and this is a going away present for Quatre. Understood. I’ll protect him,” he assured them. 

The pair of squirrels gave him one more chattery reply before dashing off, leaving Trowa with a perfect acorn in his hand. And suddenly, he realized that it was the perfect vessel for a protection charm. 

He poured his magic into it and wove a careful spell around it. His magic was green - both in color and in skill - but that only meant that the acorn, being plant based, would make the protection more effective. With the acorn glowing green then gold in his hand, Trowa coaxed a vine out of the ground and infused it with magic so that it wouldn’t break. He then wove the vine into a cord that wrapped around the gold-tinged acorn so that it rested securely in the center of the woven cord in what resembled a locket made of vine, leaving the ends of the vine free to be knotted together. 

Happy with his gift, Trowa decided it was about time to make his presence known outside the Winner house. Hopefully Quatre wouldn’t be too much longer. 

~

“Father?” Quatre called out, opening the large heavy door and stepping into the cool foyer of the expansive house that had once been home.  “Hello? Is anyone home?”

There was a moment where the house was absolutely still, and then heavy footsteps - running - from upstairs. 

“QUATRE!” a loud, booming voice called, making Quatre jump and whirl in place. 

At the top of the staircase stood Omar Winner and just behind him, were three of Quatre’s sisters and a very pale looking maid. 

“Father? Is everything alright?” he asked, coming in further. “Why is everyone looking at me like that?”

“You demon boy!” one of his sisters, Selene, with the raven black hair and olive skin, spat. “You have always been ill luck! We should have known you were coming!”

“Selene, dear, now is not the time,” Omar warned as he came down the stairs, eyes on Quatre.

“What did I do now?” Quatre asked in exasperation. He set his hands on his hips and looked up at his sister expectantly. 

“Don’t you dare look at us!” Cerise snapped. “Why are you even here? You’re supposed to be at the Inn - away from US!”

“Girls, go back to your rooms,” Omar said sternly, and the three were only too eager to comply, but not before the last one, Amalie, got the last word in. 

“Papa, see that he doesn’t stay - the whole house could be next!” 

“What is she talking about?” Quatre asked, noting the ashen look on the maid as she hurried to disappear after Quatre’s sisters. 

Omar, by then, was standing in front of Quatre, rubbing the bridge of his nose with one hand while resting the other at his waist. 

“Something happened to your old bedroom,” he began. Of all the things Quatre was ready for, he was not ready for the next words, “It’s been destroyed.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As I mention in my summary, this is an RP-turned-fic. The problem? Well... we often only RP'ed the fun bits, and the conversations, and there's big, ginormous story-holes throughout this thing. What does that mean? It means I get to write whole chapters (like this one) to stitch together scenes that my bestie and I created... and I get to discover very large plot holes along the way.
> 
> I'm working on the next part right away! Comments, feedback, and suggestions are welcome >^.^<
> 
> Thank you for reading!


	4. Flight in the night

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone reading, leaving reviews, and giving me kudos! You are all doing wonders for my poor, neglected, writer's esteem. A special thank you goes out to lo, whose encouraging comments have made me work a little faster. I was planning on posting this tomorrow, but I wrapped it up faster than expected.
> 
> Note - my writing (as usual) is un-beta'ed.

Chapter 4

Quatre hadn’t said a word when he came out of the house. He’d barely even looked at Trowa on the way out, dead set on getting back to the inn. 

Trowa had been waiting by the gate and had only been there for a moment or so when Quatre stormed out of the house, a bag slung over his shoulder, with tears in his eyes. He shoved past Trowa, and didn’t heed the calls of the tall man that came out of the house, only a few steps behind him. 

“Quatre?” Trowa asked, in alarm, using his longer legs to keep up with the blond, but Quatre only shook his head and walked faster. 

Trowa didn’t like the feeling that came upon him. Something was wrong and Quatre was trying to get away from it, but he thought it best to keep his opinions to himself for the time being. He could have badgered his charge, but instead, he focused his energy on scanning for threats. The blond had certainly been rattled, and had Quatre not run off, Trowa would have defended him against the man who had chased after him. Alas, there had been no time, not if Trowa wanted to keep up. 

As they crested the last hill before they reached the inn, Quatre stopped dead in his tracks. 

“Oh no…” he gasped, dropping his bag and making a mad dash for the inn. 

Trowa was only steps behind him and was about to ask what the matter was when he saw a plume of black smoke rising from the inn. With nary a thought, he picked up the bag Quatre had dropped and chased after him. 

To his surprise, Quatre was fast. Much faster than Trowa would have ever given a human credit for. By the time he’d reached the inn, Quatre was already inside. 

“Quatre!” Trowa called out, moving around the people that were running about, trying to salvage furniture and settle the horses. He ran into the main building, where most things had already been cleared out, and windows were being opened to let out the worst of the smoke. 

He didn’t see Quatre, and immediately bounded up the stairs. There, he saw Quatre, standing dumbly in the hall. He was standing outside his room, staring at something inside. Other people were there too… covered in soot. Iria was wringing her hands, saying something to the blond, who barely looked like he was paying attention. 

Trowa came nearer, but Quatre didn’t look at him. Instead he put a hand on his sister’s shoulder. His lips moved, but his eyes looked distant. He went inside his room and closed the charred door firmly.

Iria looked like she was about to cry, but instead, she turned fiery eyes upon the elf. 

“He does not want to see you right now,” she told him, hands wringing in her apron. “Do not disturb him. He will come down when he’s ready.” 

Trowa was about to argue but the sharp pang in his chest, coming from the direction of Quatre’s bedroom told him that he was not wanted right then. So he bit his tongue. 

He inclined his head and stepped aside, letting Iria pass. 

“I suggest you pack your things, Mr. Barton. You are no longer welcome here,” Iria said, pausing as she passed him, on her way to the stairs. “You have caused enough trouble.” 

“I will not leave without him,” Trowa growled, his hands clenching into fists. He had searched for YEARS and he’d be damned if some human woman kept him from bringing back the Equilibrium. 

“So you say,” she agreed. “For now, I want you out of my inn. Go make yourself useful with the horses or something, but get out.”

She didn’t wait for Trowa to retort, and quite honestly Trowa didn’t know what to say. He’d been shunned before, and while he wasn’t exactly surprised that the human would be hostile at him, he didn’t know why he was to blame for whatever had happened while he and Quatre were in town. 

He debated for a moment, then decided discretion was the better part of valor and made his way down the stairs and out of the Inn. He would certainly tend to the horses. They would leave as soon as Quatre was ready. 

Quatre didn’t come out right away. In fact, he didn’t come out at all. 

It was evening when a woman with raven black hair, a gown to match, and honey colored eyes came out of the inn and made her way to the elf that sat on a tree stump, whittling at a branch. Since Iria was not allowing him to go back inside, he decided to sit and wait just outside the stables. The horses had been settled in and their supplies were packed, but until Quatre decided to go, there was no need to encumber the horses. Trowa had been debating over what to do. He couldn’t leave Quatre alone, especially not with the way he’d been acting since leaving his father’s house. And if his room had somehow been attacked at the Inn, then he was no longer safe in his home. Quatre just  _ had _ to come with him! 

But forcing the young man would surely have unwanted repercussions. 

He was lost in his thoughts, hands moving of their own accord as he carved a flute, and was caught by surprise when the woman in black came to stand before him. She carried a tray with her, waiting patiently to be acknowledged. 

Trowa looked up, his eyes guarded, and slowly put away his knife as he set down the rough flute. He didn’t say anything, but instead, waited for the woman to speak first. He hadn’t seen this human before, and he was honestly unsure if she could be trusted. 

“Good evening,” the woman said, “You must be Trowa.” When Trowa nodded, she smiled and handed him the tray. On it was a bowl of soup, a half loaf of bread, and a tankard of ale. “I am Sabintha. Quatre calls me Sabby. He asked me to come out and see to you.” 

Trowa took the tray, but didn’t say anything. So when she took a seat on a haystack not too far from him, he was honestly surprised. “I’m not leaving without him.”

“Is that why you’re out here?” she asked, tucking a long strand of hair behind a delicate ear. 

Trowa nodded, digging into his meal, “That, and Miss Iria won’t let me back inside.” 

Sabby rolled her eyes, “That woman is much too overprotective of Quatre.” 

Trowa snorted, but didn’t offer an opinion. 

“She tells me that you plan to take Quatre away from here,” Sabintha continued, watching the elf. She was startled at the piercing look he gave her - a look that dared her to say that she wouldn’t allow it. “She says you’re a brute and that you’re at fault for what’s happened today.” 

Trowa paused in his movements, the tankard of ale only halfway to his lips, “And what do you think? The same? Who are you to judge me? We’ve only just met!” he growled. Why did humans always have to make life HARD? “I’m not even sure I know what happened today - just that whatever it was, it happened when we came back from visiting your father. A visit, I might add, that had Quatre already upset.”

“Did he tell you what happened?” Sabintha prodded. 

“No,” Trowa said, bitterly, “He didn’t speak a word to me since we left his father’s house and then when we returned, I was kicked out and not allowed to see him. Quatre hasn’t come out either. The only reason I haven’t gone inside to spirit him away is because I know that he wants to be alone for the time being. And he’s safe. Now that I’m back, the protection around the inn is active again.”

Sabintha raised an eyebrow, “So you’re protecting him now? He’s never needed protection before.” She was skeptical about this whole thing, but she was much better at reading people than Iria was. She’d arrived early from her trip into the next town’s market and had come upon the Inn as everyone in the vicinity was working to put out the fire that had started up in Quatre’s room. “It’s passing odd that you show up and suddenly Quatre is in danger.” 

“Are you implying that whatever happened is  _ my _ fault?” Trowa asked incredulously. 

“Is it?” she asked pointedly, standing. She did not wait for a reply and stood. “Good evening, Elf,” she said, walking away, back towards the inn. 

Trowa was angry at the accusation, but deep down, he could see the truth in it. He was the one that accidentally sparked Quatre’s magic. He was the one that untangled the bindings of his power. He had lit a beacon in Quatre, and it was his fault that the shadows were approaching. He could feel them. He could feel how close they were - could feel that they had been at the inn while he and Quatre were away.    

He finished his meal and took the tray back to the doorstep of the inn before turning back towards the stables, lost in his thoughts as he meandered back. 

Quatre’s behavior that afternoon was really bothering him. That bright, sunny smile was gone, and tears had threatened to spill. He’d only known the young man for a little over a day, but the feeling of being pushed away was eating at him. Trowa had been waiting anxiously for Quatre to come back, but he hadn’t. He had been watching him by magic since they’d returned from seeing his father, and he could feel that Quatre was shutting everyone out. 

Why did that bother him so? Because Quatre was the Equilibrium and Trowa was his sworn guard, that’s why. At least that’s what he told himself. He was honor, and magic-bound, to serve the Equilibrium. To defend and protect him until his dying breath. But the sting of rejection felt personal; more personal than he wanted to admit. 

Trowa found his way back to his tree stump and picked up the flute that he’d been carving, letting his hands get to work again. He’d hated seeing those beautiful blue eyes clouded with impending tears. He’d hated seeing Quatre look so numb, so shaken, in the hallway of the inn, just before he entered his room. The boy had been handsome when he’d first met him, and positively stunning when Trowa had untangled his magic. 

Trowa sighed, resigned to sleep out in the stables for the night. He pocketed the flute and stood, stretching, his back cracking as he did. He would try and get Quatre to come out in the morning, he thought, then froze mid-step. He could feel Quatre - he hadn’t come out the front door of the inn, but he could feel the closeness and waited by the entrance to the stables.

Quatre came up to Trowa carrying a large pack on his back and another bag at his shoulder, "... Everyone is very spooked," Quatre confided as he took off his bags, trying to figure out how to attach them to the horses.

Trowa was beside him in a moment, taking the packages, "By what?" He asked, tossing the packs over the horses and shifting them to fit best. He didn’t need any more encouragement. In moments, he was tacking the horses and leading them out of their pens. 

"... My room... at the Inn? It's decimated," Quatre said, sounding haunted. 

Trowa hadn't been paying attention to that, and he lifted a brow, "It was? Just now?"

Quatre shook his head. “From this afternoon. There was a fire, but the fire started on the floor. The fireplace was cold and I hadn’t even been in there since this morning. I didn’t accidentally start it, but some of my sisters… they don’t believe me.” Quatre followed Trowa as he led the horses out. He wrapped his arms around himself and continued, “Father is inside... he's very spooked... my bedroom in his house was torn to shreds, but no one can figure out what happened. The maid discovered the state of my old bedroom this morning," he added. “Everything had been slashed and torn and broken. My sisters blame me.” 

“Is that what had you upset this afternoon?” Trowa asked gently. 

Quatre nodded, “Father heard of the fire and came to see the damage at the inn. I hadn’t even talked to him about leaving, like I had planned this afternoon. As soon as Iria saw him, she demanded that he talk me out of leaving with you…That an elf shouldn’t be trusted... ”

“A-and? What happened?” Trowa asked, pausing in his steps to look at Quatre in the moonlight. They were right outside the stables and Trowa was checking the saddle strings. 

“And he thinks it is best that I go.” And here, Quatre’s voice broke, “And so does everyone else. Iria tried to talk them out of it, but…” he shrugged, “they had my bags packed before Iria ever finished arguing against it. I’m a danger to everyone. I always have been, and now, it’s more than just clumsiness,” he said, taking the reins from Trowa and climbing onto his horse. 

Trowa frowned, "You’re not a danger. You are to be protected. I’ve felt shadows…” he admitted, “But I never felt you to be in danger today. You were at my side and in my sphere of protection. There are shadows out there and other magical creatures that would love to get their hands on you, but no one would dare. You bare my magic now."

Quatre let out an exasperated sound, his horse reflecting Quatre’s impatience by stomping. 

“I don’t want to talk about magic right now. I just want to leave,” he said, already walking his horse toward the road that led out of town. 

“Don’t you want to say goodbye to your family?” Trowa asked, his horse trotting to catch up. 

“No,” Quatre whispered, kicking his horse into a run. 

~~~~~

They had ridden through the night, Trowa taking the lead when he saw Quatre could keep up, but just in case, he tethered their horses together with a little bit of magic. He didn’t know what exactly Quatre was feeling, but he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t glad for whatever reason Quatre had for going with him. They rode hard, and when Quatre seemed to tire, Trowa began looking for a place to stay. 

They came across a village with a small inn, but for some unknown reason, Quatre refused to stay there. He didn’t even want to stop. After some back and forth, Quatre insisted that they stay in the forest. 

Trowa’s nerves were raw by the time Quatre finally decided a spot was suitable for camping, and without another word, he erected a barrier and let Quatre get to work on building the fire.

They worked in silence for a bit, and when the camp was finally set up, with warm water for tea ready to be served, Quatre finally felt the need to speak up. 

"You said that I’m special… that I have, or I am the thing you were looking for. If I’m the one that needs protecting, why would anyone attack father's house?" Quatre asked, watching Trowa brushing down his horse. 

"They wouldn't attack your father... but you? If you are the one, they would, attack you, that is. Your energy was what attracted them to your room. I’m afraid that I helped do this, when I untangled your magic. Others can feel your magic now. It's stronger. You can feel it now, can't you?" he asked, moving away from the horse, and coming to sit close to Quatre. He sat uncomfortably close and, leaning in closer, he looked intently into Quatre in the eyes.

Quatre hadn't stopped to think about it. He’d felt something different since he’d met Trowa. Something inside him. Something that had begun to grow.

"That feeling… That’s magic?” Quatre asked, “It feels... tingly and warm."

Trowa smiled broadly, "Yes. It’s your magic. Not all tied up in knots and choking you now, but flowing freely. I helped you disperse some so it was easier to move."

Quatre wrapped his arms around his legs where he sat, tucked into a ball, “Are we going to the Fey now?” he asked, “So that they can tell me if I’m what you’re looking for? Do you think we can get there without that darkness getting me?”

Trowa looked surprised, "Y-yes. Are you scared? I'll protect you, Quatre. Always," He said sincerely.

Quatre blushed a little, "... Please don't say it like that," he whispered

Trowa didn't know what he'd said, but he kept his mouth shut.

"... How long until we reach the forest of the fey?" he asked, looking up at Trowa.

"A few days" He said, looking at Quatre. They’d travelled far, and would more. “How are you doing?"

"I'm doing well... As well as can be expected, anyway."

Trowa laughed a little, "You're a little afraid, aren't you?" he asked. 

Quatre nodded, staring into the fire, "... Yes... but not as afraid as everyone I just left behind."

Trowa moved a little closer, his shoulder bumping with the blond’s, "Think of what is ahead, not what is behind. It is not goodbye forever. You have lived your life there, now it is time to free yourself."

"... You don't understand," Quatre sighed. He’d lived his entire life in that township, and while his sisters were afraid of him, he knew they loved him. He could feel it. There were a lot of emotions in his household when it came to his sisters, but one fact was unwavering… they loved him. 

"Help me to?" Trowa said, meaning it sincerely, "I have... Not been close to my family in over 60 years... it is hard for me to relate."

"... They love me... but they're afraid of me. Afraid of what my presence means... they love me, but they think I'm cursed. I’ve known how they felt about me for as long as I can remember. I try hard not to be a nuisance, but… I can’t help, I  _ couldn’t  _ help the misfortune that followed me."

"Oh" Trowa looked at him with a frown, "They shouldn't be afraid of you. You're special."

"All they see is all the bad stuff that happens when I'm around,” he sighed, throwing an acorn into the fire. “Today was a pretty good example of the misfortune I bring.”

"It should have just shown them that you were special. Humans are an odd bunch. They fear... They should try to help those who are special. They should see that you could be great. If you had learned to use your power, you could have been very strong-- for evil, or for good."

"Magic is to be feared and avoided," Quatre said, reciting a line he’d heard all his life. "We've always been taught that."

"...No wonder they looked at me oddly."

"I'm not afraid of you though.”

Trowa smiled, "You shouldn't be. It's my job to take care of you. Always. In fact, I have a gift for you. It’s from me and some squirrel friends you had in town.” Trowa took out the acorn in the vine necklace he’d made earlier from his pocket and fastened it around Quatre’s slender, pale neck. “This is to protect you. As is my duty and privilege ...Why were you upset that I said that at the inn?"

"... Because…” Quatre blushed, fingering the acorn in the tiny orb-shaped basket that settled at the hollow of his neck, “it sounded... It sounded like something a man would say to his lady."

Trowa nodded slowly, "...And that upsets you, and humans, doesn't it?"

"Yes,” Quatre said quickly, then amended it, “No… A little. It doesn't offend me... not like it does the rest of the city... but I'm already odd enough without adding to it."

"...So...you aren't...interested in me?" Trowa asked, then turned, "I mean... I am very glad that you came with me."

“I'm not supposed to be interested in men!" Quatre gasped, blushing brightly. It went against everything that he’d ever been taught! Sure, there had been incidents in his township where people were caught doing things with one another that ended in ostracism, but those things were never spoken of in polite company. "... Is... Is that sort of thing acceptable where you're from?" He asked timidly, curiously, a note of hopefulness in his voice. He’d known for a while now that he wasn’t interested in women, and because of his appearance, he knew what was said about him behind his back. He’d never done anything that would spur those rumors, but his appearance seemed to be more than enough fodder for wagging tongues. 

"Yes... No one thinks twice about that sort of thing. Who your soul bonds to makes no distinction... No one has ever looked down on me," Trowa said, looking at Quatre curiously. Humans had the strangest hangups. 

Quatre cleared his throat and poked at the fire, trying to wrap his mind around what Trowa was saying. “... You're interested in men... and it's... accepted?" Quatre asked carefully, looking up at Trowa with a mixture of incredulity and hopefulness and excitement all at once.

Trowa lifted a brow, "Yes... I have had companionship with at least four other men. Is this odd to you?"

"Yes! Very much so!" Quatre insisted. He was rattled, and shifted away from the elf. Could it be true? Could his  _ appreciation _ of men, rather than women, be commonplace in the fey? “Where I come from, that sort of relationship is taboo. Working at an Inn on the outskirts of town, I caught wind of whispers here and there, but…” he shook his head, “I never imagined that a man could take another man as a lover and speak so freely about it.”

“Have I made you uncomfortable?" Trowa asked cautiously, frowning a little, "I did not mean to... I thought you had been flirting with me when I first came to the Inn. Why else would you agree to eat dinner with me?"

"... I... was curious... and you're a very attractive dinner companion… and I’d never met an elf before. Besides, you asked and it would have been rude to refuse!"

Trowa smirked just a little, flicking his eyes towards Quatre, "I agree. I did not think I felt the power from the One when I first met you, I thought I was just attracted to you."

Quatre flushed again, looking at anything but the tall elf that was scooting closer to him again. "I'm not uncomfortable...Alright, I  _ am _ , uncomfortable,” Quatre said, looking for all the world like he was about to die of embarrassment, “But I'm still curious.”

Trowa smiled softly, "...Once we find out if you are the One... Maybe you will consider me.” When Quatre didn’t say anything right away, Trowa got the impression that he’d had his fill of the conversation. He could feel Quatre retreating into himself again, and he didn’t want a repeat of being shut out like he had when they’d left the Winner house. He decided it was best to just let Quatre chew on the information for a bit and stood. “We should get some rest. We need to cover plenty of ground tomorrow.” 

Quatre only nodded and continued to watch the fire. He’d go to bed soon… he just needed his thoughts to stop racing for a little bit. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know who wrote/started the Sabintha stories (or if anyone even remembers them), but this is a small nod to her and the author that came up with her about a decade ago. Sabby is in my headcanon now and when Iria isn't in a position to advocate for Quatre, Sabby is my go-to girl.


	5. Histories

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Quatre learns a little more about the rabbit hole Trowa is leading him through

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had been afraid this chapter would be very short when I got stuck, but, thanks to a well-placed comment and kudos alerts (as well as a nap) gave me the inspiration to push through and I ended up with a longer chapter than I was expecting. 
> 
> Enjoy! 
> 
> As usual, this is unbeta'ed.

Chapter 5

Quatre fingered the acorn through the woven vines of the necklace that Trowa had given him. It was warm and comforting and felt like home, but at the same time, it felt distinctly like Trowa. The pair hadn’t said much to each other since the night before, but it wasn’t a terse silence. 

He had the impression that Trowa was pretty quiet by nature and he didn’t really feel inclined to talk at the moment. They had packed up camp and continued their journey a little after midday. They’d ridden mostly through the night and had only settled to bed just as the sky had been lightening. They’d slept the entire morning and began to stir at about noontime, a concept that had Quatre a little off-balance. He’d never slept past sunrise before, then again, he’d never ridden through the night with an elf before. Too many things had happened in the span of a day and a half.

Once camp was packed and they were ready to go, Quatre mounted his horse and followed Trowa, still lost in thought. 

There were so many things floating around in his head. He wanted to know more about this “One” that Trowa kept going on about. What had he called it? “ _ Equilibrium”?  _ Why was it so important?

Then there was the matter of magic. Since he’d left home, rather, since he’d met Trowa, he’d been getting strange sensations. Granted, he’d often seemed to know when bar fights were about to break out, or when someone had walked into their inn, or if someone was lost, but this was different. He’d known, for example, that his family feared him. Feared  _ for _ him. But last night, as he sat at one of the tables while his family spoke of him as if he weren’t in the room, he’d  _ felt _ that fear. It was a cold dread that, compounded, felt like it cut through his soul. 

Everyone had been arguing about Quatre. Iria and Sabby argued for him - said he was harmless. The others kept bringing up occurrences where Quatre had broken things, misplaced things, and didn’t mince words when they pointed out all the strange things that happened when Quatre was around. 

His father spoke of the damage to his rooms, both the one he occupied at the Inn and his old bedroom in the Winner house. Those incidents were what troubled him most. All of the strange happenings up until that point  _ had _ been rather harmless. Now, he feared for the safety of his other children. 

And that’s when Iria had brought attention to Trowa. 

“It’s all that  _ ELF’s _ fault!” she had spat, her voice laced with unbridled anger. 

“Elf?” Omar Winner asked. Quatre had meant to talk to him about leaving town, but after seeing his room torn up, and after the words Omar had had for him, Quatre had choked up. He’d salvaged a few items from his room, stuffed them into a bag, and ran out of his father’s house, promising to never again darken his doorstep. He’d run from the house and gone to the Inn, Trowa on his heels, and that’s when he discovered that the Inn had been attacked as well. 

By the time Quatre had finished sorting through his things in the the now-scorched bedroom, his father had been downstairs, with his other sisters, and Iria and even Sabby there. 

They all stopped talking when he came down to join them, then continued the conversation when it was obvious that Quatre wanted no part of it. Instead, he’d gone to fetch drinks for everyone. He tried not to let it bother him when Selene, Amalie, and Cerise flinched when he got too close. 

Amalie even went so far as to push away the cup he’d set before her with a handkerchief, as if coming in contact with anything that he’d touched was akin to contracting a disease. 

“Iria, tell me about this, Elf,” Omar had demanded, “Why am I just now learning of it?”

“An elf came to stay at the Inn last night,” Iria had huffed, brushing off her skirts, pointedly taking a drink from the cup Quatre had set before her. “He was spouting all sorts of elf-babble. He is convinced that Quatre is one of theirs and he wants to take him away to some Fey TEMPLE! It’s sheer insanity!” 

“I knew it!” Selene had spat. “I knew that  _ Qatarine _ was a witch!” 

Omar banged his fist against the table, making the cups rattle and Quatre flinch. “You will hold your tongue,” he snapped at Selene. “I don’t EVER want to hear you say a single word about Qatarine.” 

It wasn’t the first time he was reminded that his mother, Omar’s third wife, was disliked by his still-maiden sisters. Omar had been widowed for the second time shortly after Sabintha was born, and he’d looked for a nurse for her so that the burden did not fall on Iria, his eldest. He’d had so many children, and he’d had maids, but a baby needed special attention. 

That is when Qatarine had come into his life, and, as Quatre understood the story, he’d become smitten with her. They eventually married, but she didn’t conceive right away, as his other wives had. 

Qatarine was said to be beautiful, and charming, and lovely. The whole town had developed a soft spot for her, even most of Omar’s daughters. She became friends with Iria and was the only mother Sabintha had ever known. 

But there were those that had been jealous of Qatarine; ladies that had tried to catch the eye of the illustrious Mr. Winner, but instead, he gave his heart to the nurse he employed. Rumor circulated about Qatarine and her  _ enchanting _ ways. Nothing overt, but Quatre knew what had been implied. 

His maiden sisters had taken a disliking to her for some reason. Perhaps they were jealous of her golden coloring, a trait that Quatre had inherited. His appearance, compounded with the odd occurrences that happened in his proximity undoubtedly led credence to the idea that Qatarine had been an enchantress of some kind. Quatre refused to believe those rumors. 

“Iria,” Omar had ground out after impressing upon his daughters that speaking ill of the dead was tacky, “Tell me about this… elf.” 

And Iria had. She told them all about Trowa and how he’d arrived the night before. How he’d seemed to single Quatre out, and how he’d been following Quatre the entire day, practically begging for Quatre to come away with him. 

“Is this true?” Omar had asked. Up until then, Quatre didn’t feel like he could trust himself to speak, but he couldn’t ignore the question. 

“His name is Trowa, father,” Quatre had said, holding on to his water cup, turning it in his hands. “He said he had been looking for something. An…  _ equilibrium _ , he called it. He seems to think I have what he was looking for and he wants me to follow him to the Fey.” 

There were gasps around the table. No human had ever entered the Fey and come out with their sanity. 

“It’s a trick! Surely you see-” 

But Iria’s protests were quickly shut down when Omar spoke, “You should go.” 

“W-what?” Quatre had gasped, disbelief written all over his face. He didn’t even notice that Cerise and Amile got up and left the room. 

“No buts, Quatre,” Omar said seriously. “You have to go. You’re  _ different _ and you know it. We can’t overlook your oddities any more. You’re a grown man and it is time you act it. You’ve frightened your sisters and put dozens of people in harm’s way. Enough is enough. Qatarine may have been accused of being tainted with magic, but she was human. She was my favorite wife and I loved her dearly. I protected you and explained away your peculiarities, even hid them to the best of my ability because I loved her so dearly. She died giving me a baby boy - something I’d always wanted - but with an ELF here to claim you as one of theirs… I can’t ignore that. Pack your things, boy. With any luck, that elf will still take you with him.”

“But father!” Iria had gasped, hugging Quatre tightly. 

“It’s okay,” Iri, Quatre had whispered. His voice was hollow. Had his father always resented him this much?

And that’s when Cerise and Amalie had come back with Quatre’s belongings. Quatre had only nodded and picked up his bags. He was on his way out, choosing to take the back door, instead of cutting through the sitting area where guests usually congregated, when he was stopped by a hand on his shoulder. He had paused in his steps, not listening to the final words of parting his father had given him. All he heard was, “This is all I can give you,” before the man pressed a bag of coins into Quatre’s palm. 

Quatre had walked out then, and hadn’t looked back. 

His thoughts were jarred by the sudden turn his horse took. He didn’t understand why Trowa had turned off the main road, but he wasn’t dumb enough to protest loudly when he was obviously trying to keep them hidden. 

At the hollow of his neck, the acorn warmed and pulsed, and oddly, Quatre could feel an electricity in the air. 

It was strange; he felt the magic in the protection charm, but he also felt something different. Something dark and bitter. 

Trowa brought them to a stop, hiding behind the thick brush in the woodlands, and held a hand up for Quatre, signaling that they should keep quiet. 

That’s when Quatre heard the hoofbeats of other horses. They were walking at a rather brisk pace, but there was something else. The sound of metal and the smell of oiled leather. Quatre shivered, something making his skin crawl. The feeling swept over him like insidious tendrils, threatening to make him sick. He held onto the pommel, closing his eyes, concentrating on his breathing. 

Next to him, Trowa cast a worried glance in his direction. He was using most of his ability and concentration on a cloaking spell. He didn’t know if Quatre could fight, but he sincerely doubted it. He knew that the men in black armor that they were hiding from were just one of the many dangers that being without an Equilibrium brought about. 

He hadn’t seen this group in particular, but there were many like them. They were fierce warriors, hell-bent on destroying or enslaving magical creatures. Though people with that sort of malice inside them existed whether or not an Equilibrium sat on the throne, when an Equilibrium was absent, that malice spread to others like a cancer. People who would normally be tolerant of magical creatures would suddenly turn on them, thanks to what the elves called  _ the Malice Influence.  _

Trowa held his breath. As the small group of eight or so passed them by, one of them stopped and looked around. He knew he was being watched. 

It was taking every bit of concealment magic on Trowa’s part to keep them hidden and he could feel the glamour slipping. Cursing inwardly, he mentally prepared for what would happen when the illusion broke. 

Just then, he felt a hand on his forearm. 

Trowa’s gaze broke from the men on the road and instead focused on Quatre. The young man had a death grip on his pommel, and his eyes were squeezed shut, as if he were in great pain. His other hand had reached out and was gripping Trowa’s forearm tightly. 

That’s when Trowa realized that his glamour was no longer failing. It was stronger than it had ever been and the man who had stopped, continued on his way, seemingly disinterested in whatever had caught his attention. Trowa was surprised and overwhelmed by the sheer amount of magic that was flowing through him - it was much too potent for just a simple glamour, but being a guardian class elf, he was able to channel the excess energy and release it into nature. It seemed like his grounding techniques were going to be put to the test if Quatre had this much magic flowing through without even trying!

They were quiet for a few minutes after the guards had gone, and even though they’d left, Trowa was reluctant to let go of the glamour. It was another few moments before Quatre let go of Trowa’s arm and seemed to regain his senses. 

“Are you alright?” Trowa asked as dazed blue eyes blinked open.

Quatre nodded a bit, but he looked a bit disconcerted. “I… have questions,” he whispered. 

Trowa nodded, that was understandable. “We need to go a little further… I’ll answer what I can.”

They kept off the main road for the remainder of the afternoon and took deer trails instead. Trowa seemed to innately know his way through the forest, occasionally laughing to himself when he saw squirrels follow them for short periods of time. 

He told Quatre about the equilibrium, and why it was important. Usually, the equilibrium was born in the human realm, and often they were a half breed of some kind. When Quatre asked why, Trowa just shrugged. He honestly didn’t know, but he assumed that it had something to do with the Equilibrium’s ability to bring balance to the world, between magical creatures and those without. 

“Can you tell me about the men on the road?” Quatre asked, amused as a cardinal landed on Trowa’s shoulder. 

“Those men are an example of what happens when an Equilibrium isn’t anointed,” Trowa sighed. 

“I don’t understand.” 

“The world is divided in two - the Fey and the Human,” Trowa began, and Quatre nodded, that much everyone knew. “Now the thing about the human world is that occasionally, there are humans born with magic. They belong to neither Fey nor Human, but can choose to live in either world.” 

“Like half breeds?” Quatre asked. “Children with one human parent and one Fey?”

“There are those,” Trowa conceded, “But there are others too. There are some humans that are simply born with magic. There may have been a fey at one point in the line, or the parent may have ingested a magical plant or sometimes, there’s no explanation at all. These humans are known as Magi. Humans call them wizards or sorcerers or even witches. I’m honestly not sure that there’s a difference or why humans would designate different names to the same thing, but humans are strange and so I don’t question it much.”

“I get the feeling that these Magi are important - what do they have to do with the men on the road? Are they Magi too?” Quatre found the topic fascinating. Why were the human children never taught these things?

Trowa scratched the back of his head, not sure how to put it all together for Quatre. “No, those men aren’t necessarily Magi. Those men serve a Magi.” Trowa turned to look at Quatre, and held up a hand, “Hold on… I’m not doing the best job at explaining this. Let me try again. Remember how I told you we live in a divided world and the Equilibrium keeps the balance between the worlds?” 

Quatre nodded, “Yes - you said that the Equilibrium is an influence of peace and when one is in residence at the Fey Temple, that human/fey relations are harmonious.” 

Trowa smiled, “You’ve been listening. Yes, that’s how it works. While both sides are influenced by the Equilibrium, the fey are a little less susceptible to the influence of magic because they  _ are  _  magic. With humans, unless the individual is of exceptionally high self-control, they are easily swayed by the intent of magic. It takes a lot more effort for magic to be constructive than it takes for magic to be destructive. When an Equilibrium is absent from the temple, the phenomenon known as  _ Malice Influence,  _  which is a form of chaos magic, begins to spread among the Magi. We think it happens because the Magi are humans  _ with _ magic, instead of beings  _ of _ magic. They are the first to suffer the the  _ Malice _ and from there, it spreads like a disease.” 

Quatre frowned, “So this affects all humans… Is that why I grew up hearing horrible stories about fey-kind and why my mother’s memory has slowly been tainted over the years?” 

Trowa nodded a little, “It’s possible. We’ve been without an Equilibrium for nearly twenty years. It’s not unusual for someone who was once loved and cherished to have their memory tarnished by the  _ Malice _ .”

“So those men work for a Magi then? What are they looking for?” Quatre asked. His stomach turned at the thought of them. There had been something dark and foreboding in the air when they’d passed them on the road. It felt like something was rotten and festering in their souls and just thinking about it made him ill. 

“They were looking for the same thing I was looking for. You,” Trowa said. Quatre had the distinct impression that there was more to it than that. 

“You’re not telling me something… I can feel it,” Quatre accused. 

Trowa bit his lip, not wanting to say, but he knew he had to. 

“Like me, they seek the Equilibrium. Once the Equilibrium is tainted, chaos magic and warfare will be unleashed, the likes of which haven’t been seen in several millennium. If they cannot taint the Equilibrium, then they will execute it.” 

Quatre gasped, suddenly understanding why Trowa was so paranoid. 

“They will also kill any fey they encounter. While we guards were expressly charged with finding our new sovereign, all the fey are on the lookout and all are eager to find you. These men - we call them shadow souls - are being manipulated by a Magi who has been corrupted by the Malice. The Magi does not always know they have magic, but Dark Magi have often manifested themselves as conquerors or usurpers. They are Men and women fixated on taking power for themselves in the shape of earthly conquest.” 

Quatre frowned, trying to think back on his history, “If that is true, then… are you implying that General Khushrenada who supposedly enslaved a thousand ogres to build his castle at the edge of the empire and allegedly burned whole villages to the ground was a Dark Magi?” 

Trowa looked impressed. “That must be ancient history to you. I’m surprised you know of that.” 

Quatre blushed, “It was only mentioned in passing a time or two in the history book my sister had us studying from when I was little, but for some reason, that story jumped out at me. I wanted to learn more, but there weren’t very many references to that event and the Maesters at the library in the city told me that the records were too old for a boy to be given access to them.” 

Trowa smiled, “The library in the Fey Temple is unmatched. If you’re still interested in history, I’m sure you’ll enjoy visiting it.” 

The idea of a library at his disposal distracted Quatre for a while. He had always been curious, which, in the past, had often led to some sort of accident or another. He excitedly asked Trowa about the temple and what sorts of things he could expect. He wasn’t sold on the idea of his being this  _ Equilibrium _ that was so important to the balance of magic, but he was still intent on learning everything he could and enjoying every new experience. 

Trowa had convinced him that he did possess  _ some  _ magic. He could feel things - he’d always been able to, but never with this much clarity - and the world looked slightly different. Things had a certain glow about them sometimes, and he could understand Trowa’s language when no one else could. 

He’d always known he was different, and while being this magical savior was ludicrous, Quatre now understood that he could very well be one of these Magi that Trowa had spoken of. But that wasn’t a comforting thought; the Magi could be corrupted and corrupt Magi did terrible things; things Quatre shuddered to think about. 

They were starting to lose light when Trowa decided they should stop. He’d found them a shallow cave and together they set about making camp. Trowa cooked dinner for them, rabbit stew, and Quatre saw to the horses. Quatre knew that they’d need to sleep soon, but his mind kept replaying the conversations they’d had over and over again in his head. There was just so much to take in, and his companion was handsome and graceful and so utterly engaging in his rather serene way. 

Quatre found himself staring at the elf more and more the longer he spent in the taller man’s company. 

It wasn’t until they’d both bedded down, each on his own bedroll, that Trowa spoke up, “Is there something the matter?” 

“What makes you say that?” Quatre asked, rolling onto his back, staring up into the darkness. 

“You’ve been staring at me and I’m not sure why. Have I done something?” Trowa asked. 

They had put out the fire a while back ago so that only embers remained. It wasn’t cold so the fire wasn’t necessary for warmth. It was pitch black in the cave with only the moonlight coming from the mouth providing a scant bit of illumination. 

“I’ve been thinking about everything you’ve said,” Quatre began, “A-and… I wanted to talk about the subject we were on last night.” 

Trowa hesitated, then replied, “What about it?” 

Quatre bit his lip, “Last night, you said that if I’m this thing you’re looking for, that perhaps I’d  _ consider _ you.” He was grateful that it was so dark in the cave. He normally didn’t have trouble talking about how he felt, but this - this was different. This conversation would have never happened at home. Quatre would never have even considered talking to a man about such an intimate topic, especially considering that Quatre wanted to know about a man taking another man as a lover. That  _ was _ what Trowa had implied, wasn’t it?

Trowa was surprised and coughed, "You, you don't have to... but... Most Equilibrium meet their bonded as one of the guards... and... and I am a guard..."

“Bonded? Is that like a spouse? A husband or wife?” Quatre asked curiously, smiling at the thought. 

“Yes. Something like that,” there was a smile on Trowa’s lips.

"... And if I'm not? The One, I mean," Quatre asked, suddenly anxious without knowing why. “What happens then?”

"Then I do not know, Quatre. You may get to the fey and your soul may bond with another," Trowa said softly, sighing, "I am just a young guard... there are many stronger, better choices than I..."

"I like your company... but... are you telling me that if I'm not the one... you're not interested?" Quatre felt the anxiety build even more; it was almost like a knife being plunged into his stomach. Why was the elf affecting him so? He tried to keep his composure, but hearing him say that he was only interested in him if he was this  _ One _ that he was always going on about, hurt him more than he thought possible. 

Trowa halfway sat up and propped himself on his elbow, facing the direction where  he knew Quatre lay. "What? No! I know you are the one" he said as if that were obvious, "I do not want you to make promises to me you cannot keep. I am interested in you. I would very much like to get to know you... But if we entertain this relationship and you get to the temple and find another-- I-- I don't think I will be able to stand it."

In the darkness, Quatre blushed and smiled a little, “Thank you for being so kind to me. No one has ever treated me the way you have."

Trowa looked at him in the darkness, watching the dark shape he knew to be Quatre, "I ... I almost wish you were not the One..." he confided softly.

"... Why?" Quatre asked, softly, "You went through all this trouble.”

"Because then I would not be worried that your heart would be stolen from me when we get to the temple. I could have stayed at the inn longer and gotten to know you... Asked you to come with me, just to be near you."

Quatre felt a lump forming in his throat. "You... really feel that strongly?" he asked, shifting to his side, looking over at where he knew Trowa to be. He hadn’t yet surrendered his heart to the elf, at least he didn’t think he had, but the butterflies in his stomach were there all the same.

"Of course. I don't flirt with just any handsome human I meet... I knew you were special from the moment I walked into the Inn,” Trowa admitted. In truth, he was a little frightened at how quickly he had fallen for the small blond man. He’d never felt anything like it in his life. He was very young when he met the last Equilibrium, and while he’d loved her, all the guards did, it wasn’t anywhere near as intense as this. Trowa was deathly afraid that everyone else would feel this sort of attraction towards the new Equilibrium and then Quatre would choose someone else to become his companion.

Quatre smiled a little more, "I don't want to make promises... but I... I like you." It felt amazing to say those words out loud. Never in his wildest dreams did he think he could realistically take part in making his deepest, darkest, most well-kept-secret of a fantasy come true. He’d worked very hard in burying that attraction he knew he felt for men, tried very hard to be interested in ladies, and now Trowa was in his life, telling him that it was accepted and somewhat commonplace in the Fey to have a lover of the same gender. 

Quatre wasn’t ready to say anything more damning than that small utterance, but that utterance was incredibly liberating! He was sure that Trowa would have no idea how much courage he’d mustered just to say that noncommittal phrase, but it didn’t matter. Trowa had been the one to give him hope, permission to open that box in his heart and mind, where he’d stuffed all those  _ taboo _  oddities of his, that he thought would never see the light of day. 

"I am not pressuring you; I want to wait until we get to the temple to explore this,” Trowa said in an effort to guard his heart, thinking of how often the One would find a guard they loved in the history books.

"Thank you for waiting for me..." Quatre whispered, thinking Trowa understood how much the idea that he could have a male lover was affecting Quatre and his outlook on the future. 

"If we are meant to be, I would wait my whole life for you" He said sincerely, "Elves only bond once. We may have lovers... but they are not bonded. We wait for our bonded forever."


	6. Deep conversations and Meeting in the Forest

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Quatre wants to know more about this bonding business and Trowa indulges him. They unexpectedly meet an addition to their small party.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It is my goal to keep producing one to two chapters a week; thank you for your kudos, comments, and encouragement!
> 
> As usual - my work is unbeta'ed 
> 
> ... And I'm posting this with only a cursory proofreading.

Chapter 6

Quatre went to sleep with Trowa’s words floating through his head,  _ We wait for our bonded forever. _ In the morning, he awoke and found Trowa had already made breakfast and was sitting at the mouth of the cave, eating quietly. 

Quatre watched him for a bit, letting himself look at the elf in a way that he’d never allowed himself to look at any other man. He wasn’t wearing his cloak and he didn’t have that closed, guarded look about him as he ate quietly, looking out into the forest. He looked quite serene and … sinfully handsome, Quatre realized. He was tall with long legs, and without that cloak obscuring him, Quatre could see how those strong, broad shoulders tapered down a handsome back to a narrow waist and strong-looking hips. 

The last thought made Quatre blush, ashamed of his train of thought. He averted his gaze then, quickly stamping down on the urges that had started to rise. He took a few moments to center himself and shove unbidden ideas out of his head before deciding he was ready to face the day - and the elf. 

He stood and folded his bedroll before joining Trowa. 

“You didn’t wake me,” Quatre accused, sitting beside the elf. 

Trowa looked a little apologetic as he handed Quatre a bowl with what appeared to be boiled oats. “We are not in a huge hurry. It is safe here…”

“And?” Quatre asked, taking a bite of his meal. How he knew Trowa wanted to be prodded for a deeper answer, he couldn’t say. 

“And you looked too peaceful to disturb. It’s been a difficult few days for you… you needed the rest.” In truth, Trowa had spent too much time that morning just staring at the sleeping blond, telling himself that he could, WOULD, survive if Quatre decided to take a lover in the fey. A lover from within the ranks of the guards. A lover that wasn’t him. 

The reality of the situation, though, was that Trowa didn’t know if he could survive the broken heart.

"... How... sad..."

Trowa’s head snapped up, looking at the blond. “What is?” he asked. He couldn’t possibly have been reading thoughts, could he?

Quatre shrugged, looking out into the forest, “Your soul. Your soul is very, very sad. I wish it weren’t so. Do you want to speak about it? I’m a good listener.” 

Trowa shook his head. “It would be very difficult to talk about what I’m feeling…” he admitted. How could he tell Quatre that  _ he _ was the source of his anxiety? That the thought of losing him, when he’d never even had him, was tearing him apart? “Can we talk about something else?” 

Quatre smiled a bit and changed the subject. They ate quickly and broke camp. It didn’t take them too long to pack up and resume their journey. By the time the sun was high in the sky, they’d found the road again. 

They rode in companionable silence, stopping for a bit to have a mid-day meal and water their horses. Each was deep in thought; Trowa about getting Quatre to the Fey Temple safely and Quatre about what would await him there. 

The shadows were getting long when Quatre had finally had enough of riding quietly, “Tell me about these soul bonds you mentioned last night. You said elves can wait forever… what did you mean?”

Trowa let out a puff of air. Leave it to Quatre to want to talk about the thing that was eating him. At least he could be objective about the question… he wasn’t discussing his own personal state of emotions. After a moment of hesitation, he decided that Quatre did need to know about being bonded if he was going to live among the elves. He needed to know what it meant. Humans had different constructs and Quatre would have no idea about elvish practices.

"When an elf bonds, our souls become one. And we do not live without our bonded,” When Quatre looked alarmed and then deeply saddened, sad enough that Trowa felt it hit him like a wave, he gasped, holding his chest, “It is not sad at all; it is beautiful. We grow, become better, and our bonded will eventually find us, or us find them."

Quatre chewed on that for a bit. “Aren’t elves an exceptionally long lived race? You said you were eighty years old, I think…” 

“Ninety, actually,” Trowa corrected, his eyes scanning through the forest they were about to enter for danger. “What of it?” he asked. He kept his voice cool but he was self conscious. He was hardly an adult by elf standards. 

“Well,” Quatre began, urging his horse to go a little faster to ride abreast of him, "... What happens if your bonded is not an elf?  _ Can _ elves be bonded to non-elves?"

Trowa smiled a little, pausing in what he was doing for a moment to look at Quatre, “Yes, it’s possible. It isn’t common, but it has happened. The souls are melded and the lifespan of an elf is gained."

That much was surprising! Quatre gaped, looking up at Trowa with a look of sheer wonder, "Really? Even humans?" he asked.

"Yes,” Trowa smiled, “Especially if the human lives in the Fey. As much as humans are inherently useless creatures-- no offense-- they actually take in magic quite well. They generally cannot wield it on their own, but they are very receptive."

“So you’ve said,” Quatre huffed, remembering that humans were the problem in all this for being influenced by magic too easily. “I'm trying to not be offended by being called useless... Not sure it's working."

Trowa grinned teasingly at that, working his charm, "That is the theory, not mine. I have spent much time in the human realm. You are rather useless with magic, but you are so...ingenious... creating things so intricate. It's quite smart.”

"And we seem to be good vessels if the person you sought is a human," Quatre reminded him. He wasn’t sure why he suddenly felt so defensive, but he did. 

Trowa flicked his eyes to Quatre, "Humans are good vessels for many things... Humans seem to take on so many qualities... No other special, or fey, can create so many Halflings... Humans are rather adaptable."

"Thanks... I think,” Quatre said, rolling his eyes. “When do we make camp?"

"That...was a compliment..." Trowa said, sounding a little unsure of himself for a moment. He had honestly been trying. Had he said something wrong? Sensing that Quatre’s mood had changed, he tried to go along with it, "We can make camp whenever you want, Quatre... We can make it now if you'd like..."

Quatre smiled a little, "I'd like to, please... and I think I will take it as a compliment. Thank you for understanding that all of this…” he said, gesturing wildly with his hands, “it’s a bit much. It’s almost feels like someone is having a jape at my expense.”

Trowa guided the horses off the road to a little pass. It never ceased to amaze Quatre that no matter where they went, Trowa seemed to know the ins and outs of the forest instinctively. He dismounted and pulled out some blankets, "It will not rain tonight, we can save time with the tent. I can find us some meat if you wish to start a fire? And... I am sorry to offend you. I do not have the best social skills."

Quatre dismounted as well, feeling like he’d just kicked a puppy, "You have a warm heart and good intent." He hesitated as he removed the gear from his horse, but then decided Trowa needed to hear it, "I... meant it when I told you I wanted you as my friend… even if we have issues in communicating."

Relief came over Trowa, and he sent Quatre a warm, beaming smile, "Thank you."

The next day passed without incident even if they had to pass through a fairly large town. They only stopped long enough to gather supplies, but Quatre did tend to linger among the vendors. He’d never been out of his own township and visiting such a large town with a real exotic market was very appealing to him. 

He bought a few odds and ends, and even a freshly baked pastry before they left. He shared it with Trowa as they continued on their journey, keeping up a light conversation about the changes in landscape that Quatre had never seen before. When they tired, they decided to stop by a small brook to make camp. It had been a warm day and it didn’t cool off very much as the sun began to set. They set about unloading their gear, with Quatre leaving for a few minutes to fetch some water. When he came back, he felt his throat go dry and his mind go blank. Trowa was standing by his horse, shirtless, looking so sinfully delectable that Quatre had to kick himself to avert his eyes and act like a rational human being.

Trowa stretched, his shirt left on the horse, "I'm glad to be out of town" He said, cracking his neck a little, comfortable with Quatre around, "I don't like the smell of it. The feel of it... Too many people."

"It WAS pretty crowded..." Quatre admitted, helping set up a fire and very proud of himself for not letting his voice break, "But at least I didn't knock over any stalls... I haven't been quite so clumsy since you came for me."

Trowa looked up at him, smiling, "I like you around too" he replied, smirking teasingly as he twisted the words to suit himself and winked at him. Trowa didn’t know what it was that had suddenly gotten into him. He could admit that he was harboring some romantic feelings for his charge, but to be so openly flirtatious was not what he’d planned on. Especially not after he’d told Quatre that he wanted to wait until they arrived at the Fey Temple; he desperately needed guidance from an elder elf. 

Quatre laughed a little bit, nervously, his face blushing brightly in embarrassment and then froze. His blushing face suddenly paled, "... Trowa... something's wrong..." he whispered, suddenly looking frightened. "Something bad. Something's coming!"

Trowa moved as soon as Quatre spoke. He went to his horse to grab his broadsword and took up a position to defend Quatre, who’d been bent over the fire and was backing away from the direction that  _ it _ was coming from. In a few moments, Trowa could hear something coming, it was another few moments before the sound could be heard by human ears.

Quatre didn't know how to fight. He didn't have any weapons! The idea to purchase a weapon had only briefly crossed his mind in the market, but he’d dismissed it, knowing he’d be clueless in using one. All he could do was stand close when suddenly a large THING came out from the bushes, coming RIGHT for him!

Rooted to the spot, the only thing he could do was scream, "TROWA!!"

Trowa rushed forward, brandishing steel and slicing forward at the shadow. It revealed itself-- a short, thick troll with a scraggly beard - it pushed back with a battle axe, making Trowa take a few steps back. Undeterred, he swept his sword again, plunging it into his chest; that was when two more jumped out.

Quatre screamed, backing up into a tree, nearly winding himself. He'd never seen a fight before, not a real one, and didn't really want to start now. His knees gave out and he slowly collapsed to the ground, back against the tree, and curled up at the base, hiding his face between his knees. He didn't want to see bloodshed - didn't want to see anyone get hurt.

SHIT! Trowa was forced to pull back a little so he could stay close to Quatre and protect him, slashing and kicking, fighting them off as the dark creatures surged forward to get Quatre. More emerged each second. Trowa was good, and could easily handle four, but six? Eight? Twelve? More? He was starting to worry. 

Trowa was starting to fatigue, when suddenly, from the ground, he felt the soles of his boots warm, followed by a warming sensation up his legs, and into his chest. He took a deep, steadying breath and tried to focus. Glancing over his shoulder at Quatre, he saw the young man curled up at the base of the tree and a golden orb form around him. Suddenly, Trowa realized that orb had taken the shape of an acorn. 

Trowa grinned, Quatre would be safe. Turning his attention back towards his opponent, he lashed out with a renewed vigor. He knew that Quatre was lending him strength and he wouldn’t waste it. 

A lion-roar echoed off the forest clearing, and another elf joined the fray with the white-bladed sword Wing swinging. This elf was slightly shorter than Trowa with a more compact frame. He had messy brown hair and deep blue eyes the color of sapphires, and he fought with an intensity that few of the Elven Guards could match.

Trowa surged again, working with General Yuy to subdue the group, but as soon as the trolls saw the other elf, then began to retreat.

Quatre could feel his magic draining... which was great because he could feel it building to a boiling point in his anxiety. THIS felt familiar, he thought idly, though more intense. This feeling he now recognized as bottled up magic was what he’d felt his entire life, making him clumsy and accident prone. The feeling was much more intense now, but thanks to Trowa, it didn’t stay bottled up. He couldn't watch the fight, but he knew his magic, if that's what it was, going to Trowa. He really hoped it helped, at least a little; he hated being this useless.

Trowa kept moving forward, slaying more and more, not feeling the slightest hurt at the nicks and blows the trolls tried to land. When they retreated, Trowa would have happily chased after them but he could feel Quatre and he could feel his fear. He couldn’t bear to leave him like that, especially when the trolls were no longer a threat. Trowa turned, sheathing his sword, and headed back to the camp, walking right over to Quatre to make sure he was alright. He bent down to touch him his shoulder, his hand passing safely through the acorn-shaped bubble around him, "Quatre? They're gone... It's okay..."

Quatre jumped a little when he felt someone touch him. Jerking his head up, he was ready to try and push the hand away. When he saw it was Trowa, he launched himself at him, hugging him tight, "I was so scared! Are you hurt? I've never felt so...  _ useless _ ! 

Trowa hugged him back, dropping a kiss on his temple without thinking, "I am fine! Are  _ you _ okay?  I was worried about you!"

Behind him, there were sounds of snorting laughter. There stood the shorter elf, who wore leather armor much like Trowa’s, was looking at them with a contemptuous smirk. Also like Trowa, he wore brown breeches and boots with the same style of shirt that Trowa wore, but where Trowa’s had been green this elf wore white. He wore a smallish chest plate and had shoulder pads, and around his legs were shin and knee guards. On his forearms were leather cuffs that went to halfway up his forearm. Where Trowa’s similar leather pieces were understated and plain, this other elf’s had vine and leaf embellishments along the edges. The elf sheathed his sword and crossed his arms, giving Trowa a look that just reeked of superiority and some exasperation. 

Trowa turned and GLARED at the General. "Do not mock him, Yuy."

Quatre jumped back when he realized someone else was there and visibly tried to put himself together, "I - I didn't know we had company... I... I'll go get more water," he said, clearly embarrassed and wanting a momentary reprieve. Quatre moved around Trowa, grabbed the water skins and headed out past the circle of light and warmth the fire provided them and went to the river. The sun was setting, but it still wasn’t quite dark. He’d be fine. 

When Quatre was out of sight, Trowa rounded on the shorter elf and glared. The other elf just smirked. They stood like that for several minutes until a rustling sound made Trowa break eye contact, his body tensing for another attack. He had his hand on his sword.

First, Heero’s horse broke through the treeline, followed by a second one. 

"Damn, it Heero! You cold son-of-a-bitch! Be nice!" Another voice said, coming out from behind Heero, not far from where the horses had broken through, making a ruckus as he disentangled himself from the thick foliage that surrounded them. He had a warm smile and a long braid, which he was picking leaves out of. Coming closer to Trowa, he dropped his braid behind his back and held out a hand in greeting, "I'm Duo! Duo Maxwell, and the ego-maniac with a stick up his ass is Heero. He's an elf. Buuuuuut" the braided man turned to Trowa, flicking his eyes over him as if looking at something others could not see, "But so are you, right? And the blonde's special... Can't tell how yet..."

Seeing the newcomer on a first name basis with the general, Trowa relaxed his stance, but he didn’t exactly like that his time with Quatre would need to be shared with Yuy and this Maxwell. 

Since they were camped right by the river, it didn’t take long for Quatre to come back to the circle just in time to hear the long-haired man introduce himself. 

Quatre looked embarrassed, at having been named but approached the small group nonetheless. "... Hello," he said, setting down the water skins and holding out his hand, "If I may introduce myself, I'm Quatre Winner... and this is Trowa Barton," he said, shaking Duo's hand. He tried to shake Heero’s but the other man just raised an eyebrow and walked away. He walked to his horse to fetch his bedroll, then moved towards the fire to set up his sleeping mat.

"We're staying here tonight." he said, as if expecting to have his way.

Trowa shrugged, and went to grab his pack, setting up camp there. Quatre had already taken care of the fire, but their cooking implements and food were still packed away.

Heero looked at Trowa skeptically, "...What do you think you're doing?"

Trowa looked at Heero, "Making camp"

"Why?"

"Because Quatre said so" Trowa answered, then stood up rather proudly, "Maybe I should introduce you two now... Quatre? This is Heero Yuy, general of YOUR Guards. Heero, this is the One."

Instead of looking pleasantly surprised, though, Heero glared, "No he's not.  _ I _ found the One. It's Duo."

Quatre looked at Duo, then Heero and Trowa, then back to Duo, "You're the One?" he asked softly, not sure if he should be relieved or hurt.

Trowa stood at his full height, "Duo?!" Trowa walked up to him, looking at him critically with his magic, his eyes changing to gold, "He has power, but he is NOT the One!"

"He is!" Heero growled, standing, "You're just too young to know!"

Duo took a step back, "This is gonna get ugly in a minute..." he muttered, looking between the two elves. Each of them clearly thinking he was in the right and both too stubborn to entertain any indication otherwise. 

Quatre could feel it too. It was like a thundercloud was forming over them and it had already begun to rumble. Soon, it would be a downpour. 

"Trowa, it’s okay... calm down, okay?" Quatre said softly, putting a hand on him, "It doesn't matter... does it?" He really wanted to placate him before a fight broke out, and unlike the brawls at the inn, Quatre knew that the two elves could be lethal if provoked. 

"YES! It does!" Trowa growled, his temper going through the roof, not responding to Quatre’s attempts to deescalate. 

Heero growled too, lip rising in a snarl, "Duo is the One." His tone brokered no argument.

"No, Quatre is the One!" Trowa retorted, eyes flaring from green to gold, magic quivering through his whole body.

Heero's magic began to spark too, his eyes glowing silver, his body shifting into an attack stance. 

"WHOA, WHOA, WHOA! BOYS! Cool it!" Duo snapped, walking between the two, holding his his hands out, separating them, "Cool it! Isn't there some sort of... high authority or something that can sort this out?"

Quatre got between them too and without thinking started draining them of their anger, "Trowa, you told me they'd know for sure at this temple we're going to... they'd have to know if either Duo or I were the one. It's okay if I'm not... and if that's the case, maybe I can find someone to lift my curse permanently without needing an elf around me to untangle me.”

Trowa looked at him angrily, "You'd leave me?!" he spat-- then looked dazed, then horrified, "I mean, I would make sure you were happy no matter... I-- I don't even know why I was so angry..." he said, looking winded. He suddenly realized that Quatre had made him calm right down. He didn’t want the fighting. 

Trowa looked at Heero, "Quatre is right, the temple will decide."

Quatre was relieved that Trowa agreed, then turned his attention to the other elf, "Please don't fight about this... It's not for you to decide.” When Heero looked like he was about to protest, Quatre cut him off, “The temple will decide. Meanwhile, Duo and I will go get more water," he said, tugging Duo away, knowing the elves would need time to mull it over.


	7. Campfire Confessions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had a bit of trouble getting through this chapter. I apologize in advance if the dialogue is a bit convoluted. 
> 
> Unbeta'ed.

Chapter 7

Quatre didn’t know why he’d asked that long-haired man, Duo, to come with him to fetch more water. He really didn’t want company after… what _had_ happened back there anyway?

Still, after an attack he figured he shouldn’t be alone, and really, he needed some space between him and the volatile elves.

Duo followed along easily, hands behind his head as he sauntered after Quatre, smiling at the blonde, "I can't believe you calmed them down so FAST! Heero's got a temper, and it looks like your guy does too-- Trowa, right?"

Quatre paused but only for a moment, before continuing to the river, smiling a little despite himself,"Yes, Trowa... I haven't known him all that long. He's very protective of me. He really thinks I'm the one he's looking for."

Duo laughed and nudged Quatre good naturedly, "I hear ya. Heero got all creepy when he met me, too, I think it's their elf way. They both seem like guards.” They arrived at the clearing by the banks of the river, the moonlight illuminating the area, giving Duo the chance to give Quatre an appraising glance, “Hey, you okay after the attack? It looked pretty rough when we got there."

"Trowa did all the fighting... I'm pretty useless," Quatre sighed, looking shaken up. When they got to the river he began filling their water skins, thankful for something to do, "... At least I can sort of cook..."

Duo had brought his own water skin to fill as well as Heero’s, and took up a place next to Quatre. He was nothing if not charming, and surely, this kid was a better conversationalist than the elf he’d been traveling with. "Don't feel bad. The elf warriors like fighting. They'll feel like they can't protect you if you show you can keep up." Duo laughed, "At least Heero does. He doesn't like it when I fight. He says his job is to 'protect' me. It’s a load of crap, if you ask me."

That tidbit caught Quatre’s attention. He put the stopper in the water skin and looked up at his companion, "You can fight? Where are you from?"

“The streets" Duo said with a grin, "Here, there, everywhere.” He stood up, putting the stopper in his own canteen and took a bow with a flourish, “Duo Maxwell, City wretch, orphan."

"Oh..." Quatre said, not sure where to go with that, "How did you meet Heero?"

"He found me,” Duo shrugged as they started walking back. “He was wandering the streets one night. Caught me nicking some food but instead of getting all mad, he went down on one knee and called me Lord or something... It was kinda creepy. Then he offered a free meal if I'd hear him out. The rest is history" Duo shrugged, "He's nice though. I get the feeling you won't get mad if I tell you he and I are _close_ ," the way Duo grinned at Quatre. The challenging raised eyebrow and that mix of proud conquest and reluctant admittance on his countenance paired with a shy affection rolling off him in waves left absolutely no room for doubt as far as Quatre was concerned. Duo had just admitted to being that elf’s lover, and he was practically daring Quatre to say something about it. It almost seemed as though Duo was looking to provoke a negative reaction early on, if any such reaction were forthcoming.

Quatre wouldn’t give him that.

Instead, Quatre found himself blushing, "It isn’t my place to judge. I’m learning that the world is a whole lot bigger than I ever imagined it to be,” he said, looking quite embarrassed. “I get the feeling he doesn’t much like me. Hopefully you can keep him from setting me on fire with those eyes of his."

Duo laughed brightly, "He's not that bad. A big teddy bear inside, really!" Quatre looked skeptical, which set Duo off on a giggle fit. He was feeling good about meeting this kid; his innocence, despite his age, made him feel a bit protective of him, so he couldn’t really fault that tall elf for mother-henning him. He was having a bit of fun making the boy blush as they broke back into the campsite... Just to find Heero punching Trowa in the face. Well shit.

Trowa took the hit and rolled, using his long legs to knock Heero to the ground, and began punching him back. Both Quatre and Duo were stunned for a moment, watching with mouths agape as Heero bucked and rolled, pinning Trowa on his back.

Quatre had been laughing when he and Duo broke through the brush and into their campsite. Duo’s laugh was infectious! He was feeling pretty good about their new company - and then he saw Trowa hit the ground then take the shorter elf down. He was frozen, horrified. A searing pain surged through his chest, making him gasp for air, and then without thinking, he did something about it.

"That is ENOUGH!" Quatre bellowed, well used to breaking up bar fights; this, however, was different. He moved forward, feeling his magic instinctively striving to restore a balance, the air around him feeling oddly statically charged. As he strode toward them, his magic latched onto each elf and began draining them, all without Quatre being conscious of it. He was too concentrated on physically prying them away from each other.

"Duo, help me get them apart," he said in a voice that seemed used to being obeyed, already putting the water skins down and pulling Trowa away. Quatre felt a spark when he grabbed hold of Trowa, much like the first time Trowa had touched his hand, but he didn’t have time to dwell on it. Immediately, Trowa’s body went slack and even Heero, who’d been grabbing hold of Trowa, looked dazed. He took a few steps back, trying to clear his head, turning to Duo, for an explanation.

Trowa's demeanor changed when he realized Quatre was suddenly by his side. He moved in front of Quatre protectively, glaring Heero down but backing off. Heero took another step back, and spat out blood from a good punch. They were physically separated, but Quatre could tell that the fight was far from over.

Duo was at Heero’s side in a moment, wrapping an arm around his middle. He looked like he’d been winded and confused, and Duo knew that a confused Heero could be dangerous. Making sure that he had a good grip around the slightly shorter man’s waist, and that he wouldn’t go anywhere, he finally voiced what most of them were wondering, albeit for different reasons, "What the hell happened?!"

Regaining his mental balance, Heero straightened, pointing at Trowa accusingly, "HE went crazy!"

" _He_ insulted Quatre!" Trowa replied at the same time, just as accusingly, but he seemed less angry the longer Quatre was around.

Heero glared, his eyes starting to turn silver, but the effect was weakened as Quatre's magic worked, sapping it away, as if Heero were a vessel that had developed some pronounced cracks. "I suppose I could have been nicer," he admitted, looking just a tad contrite.

Trowa's tense posture was slowly relaxing; he was even more susceptible to Quatre’s influence because of both his proximity to him and his attachment. "I don't want to hear you talk about Quatre again."

Heero shrugged tightly, "I guess I'd be pissed if you talked about Duo... " Trowa knew that was about as close to an apology as he’d get. In fact, he was damned lucky, now that he thought about it, that Heero hadn’t threatened him with punishment for insubordination. He would have been well within his rights to do so.

Trowa nodded once, accepting that olive branch for what it was.

Heero nodded once, ready to put the incident behind him.

And the tension seemed gone. The tightness in Quatre’s chest dissipated mostly, but not entirely. There was a dull ache and his skin tingled to the point where the weight of his clothes were causing him pain.

Without another word, Trowa went back to tending to the cook fire, which wasn’t quite ready for cooking. Heero attempted to go back to what he’d been doing too, but Duo wasn’t ready to let him.

Quatre looked at Duo, seemingly lost, "... Do you think they're all like this?" he asked. The rush of emotion - anger, wrath, pride - both the intensity and brevity of it, had left Quatre’s head spinning. Surely no creatures could be _this_ mercurial all the time!

Duo laughed, and then squeezed Heero's stomach in a hug, kissing his neck. Heero grunted at being kissed and held like a teddy bear. Damn that Duo and his lanky frame. Still, he couldn’t bring himself to make Duo let go.

"No, I think we walked in the middle of something else,” Duo said thoughtfully, petting Heero’s head, making Heero look like a sulking child. “Heero's a captain or something, and Trowa?"

"Barely a Guard!" Heero responded with a huff. “A Greenling!”

Trowa's temper hit the roof. He threw the stick he’d been using to poke the fire on the ground, advancing a few steps, only stopping because Quatre put a hand on his arm, "Just as much a guard as you! Just younger!"

Heero smirked, "Without your leaves and with a worse temper,” he added, just to bait Trowa.

Trowa ground his teeth and clenched his fists. Damn, it was hard to keep himself in check! If it wasn’t for Quatre, he would have already punched Heero again.

This whole thing was ridiculous, Quatre decided. Two grown elves, older than Quatre by several of his own lifetimes, at least, were standing and bickering in front of them like children.

"... Nice to see he has a fine example if you're a senior guard," Quatre commented lightly, his words stinging - sharp. "I'm seriously having some reservations about this fey temple if this is what I have to look forward to."

That cooled Trowa right down. He turned to Quatre, hands up in a placating gesture, "No! It's not! Heero and I are known for our short tempers! We are the exception, not the rule! Forgive me, Quatre..." Trowa said, looking a lot like a kicked puppy again. A kicked puppy that still refused to wear a shirt.

"... I'm not sure I believe you... or any of this..." Quatre said softly, looking away, focusing his attention on the cooking fire. "I... I'm not the one, and now I’m not sure I want to be." The ache in his chest felt heavy, as if a stone had grown there.

"You are!" Trowa said vehemently, putting a hand to Quatre’s cheek, the other on his shoulder, making him turn so he could look Quatre in the eye, "Please! Don't give up on me now! The temple will know. Don't concede defeat before you even try! We’re in this together, aren’t we?"

"We are, yes. But... even if I am... I don't think I want to live with elves fighting all the time. It hurts when people fight and I want no part of it," he confided. It hadn’t always been that way, but, as with all things he was experiencing since Trowa had untangled his magic, the feeling of physical pain when there was discord was more than a slight nuisance. When Trowa had fought the trolls, the pain in his chest had brought him to his knees more than the fear had. And when he fought Heero, it felt like something had scalded his skin and burned in his chest until he broke the two apart.

It felt as  though the more time he spent with the elf, the more these _abilities_ were starting to manifest themselves. And not for the first time, he felt that he needed to start figuring out how to control the magic’s effects… if they could be controlled. He’d hoped that this Fey Temple would be able to give him guidance, but now he was starting to wonder if he’d ever make it to the temple at all.

Trowa's heart clenched, "I won't fight again with Heero. Would you like my oath? For you, I will take that oath. Please don’t be mad at me - say you’ll continue on to the Fey with me. Please?"

Heero overheard, and tried not to roll his eyes at Trowa’s simpering. He walked over, and crouched in front of where Quatre had taken a seat to monitor the fire, frowning, "...Does this…” he motioned between himself and Trowa, “really hurt you?”

Quatre was clutching his chest, already ready for them to fight again, "Yes. And for some reason you two fighting hurts more than bar brawls or even that troll ... when he died," Quatre gasped, as if even thinking about something being killed hurt him.

Heero and Trowa looked at each other and then wordlessly nodded. Both reached out together, touching Quatre, each one with a hand on Quatre’s shoulder. Quatre was startled, not sure what they were doing, but suddenly, the burning disappeared and the tightness in his chest eased. The pressure in his head lessened and he felt like he could breathe again. Their touches centered his power, helping take some of the hurt away. Trowa was most distressed, and Heero didn’t look entirely unruffled.

When they withdrew their touch, Trowa looked sadly at Quatre, "I am so sorry... We won't fight like that again. I promise."

Quatre breathed a sigh of relief, "... That feels better... what did you do?" he asked, looking between them, "Is it elf magic?"

Heero spoke first, "It is just what we do. Guards of the Equilibrium. We help to center." Trowa nodded in agreement, moving forward to wrap his arms around Quatre in a loose hug.

Quatre tensed at being hugged, especially since the tall elf’s shirt was still on a horse’s rump somewhere, but none of the other men seemed to mind, "... H-how long til we arrive at the temple?"

"A few days" Heero said, smiling softly as he stepped back. He looked at Trowa, "...I... can feel his magic now..." he relented, which seemed to be a rather large arguing point.

Trowa felt relieved, and smiled then, "Thank you. I would like to see what the Temple says about him. And Duo. We would be honored if you would join us for the rest of the journey."

Heero nodded, “Very well, but you need to go back to training. You should be addressing him as ‘my lord’ or ‘my prince’. You’re far too familiar with him and your insubordination should not be ignored.”

Trowa paled, looking very much like a stunned mouse under a cat’s paw. “Sir?” he asked, back straightening.

Duo laughed and let Heero go, “You aren’t calling _me_ any of that shit,” he said, a mischievous look on his face as he put his hands on his hips.

Heero grunted and attempted to adjust his rumpled clothing, “You vehemently requested that I not address you by title. Additionally, my rank is high enough that it would not be a curiosity if we are on a first name basis, personal relationship notwithstanding.”

Quatre turned bright red, “The Equilibrium is a _PRINCE_?” he asked, looking at Trowa for confirmation.

Trowa looked like he would rather chew glass than answer that. “I-in a way,” he admitted.

Quatre put his hands on his hips, “In what way, exactly? I’m just a merchant’s son! I work at an INN!”

Trowa looked at Quatre then at Heero, who didn’t seem inclined to help. Instead, the latter just raised an eyebrow at him. Trowa took a breath and recited, “The Equilibrium is the keeper of harmony, the guardian of order, the heir of the Mother Goddess, and the prince of magic. You are The One, the chosen, and my lord and master,” he said, taking a knee, bowing to Quatre.

Quatre gaped at him, then looked up at Duo when he began cackling at Quatre’s obvious discomfort, using Heero for support. “See? I told you it was creepy as hell!”

Heero, for his part, looked smug.

“Enough,” he said, putting a hand on Trowa’s shoulder, “Stop that.”

“Are you displeased with me, my prince?” Trowa asked quietly. Heero had been right. He’d been far too familiar with Quatre, their Equilibrium, who deserved to be treated in a manner befitting his station. Between that and his behavior towards Heero, Trowa knew that he’d have to face some sort of discipline when they returned to the fey.

For his part, Quatre was mortified. Part of it was the embarrassment of being heralded like nobility when he clearly wasn’t, and part of it because he could feel the chastisement rolling off of Trowa in thick waves. The man was being put in his place, rather publicly (despite the small size of their group) and had been very rudely reminded that a hierarchy existed and he was on the bottom most rung.

“I am disappointed that you kept this from me,” Quatre began, feeling bad when he saw Trowa wince, “But I do not need or want you to use those titles. I’m an innkeeper by trade. Until your council or temple or whatever tell me otherwise, nothing has changed.”

Relief flooded Trowa’s heart and slowly he looked up, his gratitude written all over his face.

“Come now, get up,” Quatre instructed, then rounded on Heero, “Your behavior could use some work too, you know.”

Heero grunted, “Perhaps, but unlike him, I don’t think you’re our leader. Until I’m told otherwise, you’re just a stray he picked up. An interesting stray, and one who should go see our council, but forgive me, I will not bow to you yet.”

Trowa bristled, but Quatre just laughed and put a hand on him while addressing Heero, “I don’t expect you to bow, but if we’re to travel together, you both have to stop baiting my guide. You’ve made your point, now leave him alone.”

“Yeah, Heero, quit being an ass!” Duo chimed in, smacking him on the head with a folded blanket. “You embarrassed them enough and I’m hungry.” Duo looked over at Quatre, “You still want us to join your travel party? I know Heero’s being an ass right now and all, but he’s not that bad…”

Quatre smiled a little, feeling both elves settling, "Yes we would... there's safety in numbers."

"And safety with Wing at our side" Trowa admitted, his turn to offer an olive branch.

That seemed to please Heero, who grinned his hand on his precious sword in its scabbard, petting it affectionately. All traces of animosity between the elves completely dissipated. Heero was easily placated when his sword was praised and Trowa, though he was a bit of a hot head, did respect Captain Yuy and his artifact. He envied Heero’s attainment of said artifact, but not enough to covet it; he was envious that Heero was one of the few chosen that had attained one at all, and that alone made him want to work harder to be worthy of one too.  

"Wing?" Quatre asked, trying to make his brain function. Between the trolls, the pain, the relief, the embrace from a shirtless elf, the fatigue of the ride, and the whole episode of putting Trowa in his place, he was a tad bit more distracted than he would have liked to have been. He really needed a warm meal and some sleep, but curiosity always got the better of him.

Heero pulled out his sword-- the metal was white, nothing like regular weapons at all, and on the guard it had wings engraved, "This is Wing. My sword. A gift from generations past. Only certain people does it choose to allow to wield it."

Trowa nodded solemnly, "It was a great honor when Heero was able to hold it without being burnt."

"It's beautiful," Quatre gasped, coming close to look at it, but didn't touch.  Heero let him admire it for a moment, watching curiously as Quatre’s eyes seemed to glimmer, but it could easily have been a trick of the light. As Quatre examined the markings on it, his face took on a faraway quality, as if in trance.  Heero was about to say something to him when Quatre spoke.

“It’s a very handsome sword,” he whispered then he looked over at Trowa, his eyes still glowing a little, "You'll have a special weapon too..." then he looked at Duo, "But you'll have yours first."

Trowa stared at Quatre, mouth agape, and Duo looked equally spooked.

"What?" Trowa asked.

“You’re seriously being creepy,” Duo accused.

Quatre blinked and shook his head, coming out of that trance-like state. He looked around at the incredulous faces looking contrite, "I’m sorry... sometimes I say stuff that doesn't make sense. Don't mind it."

Trowa looked surprised, and impressed, "...Wow... Okay… On that note, *I*ll make dinner tonight" He said, wanting to defuse the tension.

"...Dinner? I'll help!" Quatre said quickly. He moved away from the group and to their packs, wanting to get away from the weight of their stares to gather the cooking supplies.

Heero and Duo took that as their cue to back off and give Quatre space. They moved away, Duo to pet the horses and Heero to set up a barrier around their camp.

In little time, dinner was cooked and all four ate. Duo kept the conversation going, and though it was rather light conversation, there was a thickness in the air. No doubt it had plenty to do with Quatre’s slip, among other things.

Quatre was glad when Duo and Heero decided to retire to their side of the camp for the evening.

After seeing that the horses had also been fed and watered, Trowa sat down next to Quatre at the fire, eating what little was left in the pot, enjoying (Quatre’s) cooking, before he began the task of cleaning the dishes.

"Thanks for helping... I'm useless at cooking," Trowa smiled. By then, it had cooled off a bit and his shirt had found its way back onto his torso.

"You’re not that bad of a cook. I’ve eaten your food, remember?” Quatre smiled back. When Trowa only shrugged self consciously, he added, “Thank you for saving me... I'm useless at fighting," the statement punctuated by bumping Trowa’s shoulder a little.

Trowa smirked playfully, that flirting smile back on his face.

Encouraged by the smile, Quatre continued, "And thank you for defending me… against Heero, I mean"

Trowa blushed a little, "I'll always take your side."

"... I really like you," Quatre whispered, looking embarrassed, poking at the embers, willing them to die down faster.

Trowa's smile brightened considerably, "I really like you do."

"... But you think we should wait til we get to the temple before we explore this?" Quatre asked.

Trowa nodded, "I do... There’s so much going on for you... I want to support you, not hold you back." His words were meant to be reassuring, but deep down, there was a slow-growing insecurity festering away. Heero had done a spectacular job reminding Trowa how ill-suited he’d be for an Equilibrium’s companion.

Quatre reached out and put his hand on Trowa's, giving it a squeeze, halting the scrubbing of the pot for a moment, "You have no idea how much better you just made me feel."

Trowa laughed warmly, loving that Quatre was initiating contact, even if it was short lived. Quatre let his hand go and he resumed scrubbing, "I don't want to stand in your way. When I said I think you are the One, I mean it. Not just because I think you're handsome and I'm very attracted to you... and getting more attracted by the day,” he admitted. “You’re the One. My Prince. I can feel it,” he whispered, his voice full of conviction.

"You don’t have to call me that,” Quatre blushed. “It doesn’t feel right. But, whatever happens, you're always going to have a special place in my heart, Trowa... even if we can't... you know..." he whispered.

Trowa frowned a little, furrowing his brows, "...Why couldn't we?"

Quatre blushed. He really did not want to have this conversation, but he had to admit, he was becoming addicted to the way he felt when he and Trowa spoke like this, “... I don't know... you said I might have another in my future."

He was glad that the embers were dying fast and that darkness was upon them. The moonlight was bright, but it was mostly blocked out by the canopy of trees. It was easier to speak of these things when in the dark, Quatre decided.

Trowa thought he understood now, "Oh, right... I... understand if you'd want to keep yourself for _that_ one. I'm sorry, I don't always think like a human. But I think..." Trowa smiled a little, "I think that I would like to be bonded with you-- That is, if, there's isn’t another for you."

Quatre frowned, surprised, "What? I don’t understand. I thought you couldn’t choose - that you’d wait for your soul-bonded forever.”

Trowa shrugged, "We can’t choose, and we do wait. Was it a silly thing to say? Still, I think that I would like it if you were," he said with a smile. "You're very kind. And gentle. And you seem to always know what to say."

"... You shouldn't say such things to me... I... I'm really taking them to heart."

Trowa looked at Quatre, and smiled almost ruefully, "If you are not my soul bonded... You will not share in my life force. We could still bond and you will die in only 40 or so years. I will live hundreds more." Trowa sounded very, very sad, "Soul-bonds are chosen by the Goddesses and by Magic itself… but… I can’t imagine staying away from you if it turns out you do not have a soul-bound. You’re human. You might not have one. I could be bound to you and still find my soul-bond later in life."

Quatre had to take a minute to digest that. “Does being this… _Equilibrium_ thing change my life expectancy?” Quatre asked curiously.

Trowa shrugged, “I don’t know. The last Equilibrium lived for over two hundred years, but she was only half human.”

Quatre moved away from the embers and onto his sleeping mat, "... Have you been with a human before?"

"Yes" Trowa said quietly.

"... And they... passed?" Quatre asked softly, his heart breaking a little as he watched Trowa dry the now-clean dishes. .

"He did, yes…” Trowa whispered. “Just the one human before. I’ve also been with other elves.” He was quiet for a moment, gathering his thoughts, then continued, “He passed not long ago, but, he aged... aged so quickly. It was hard to be with him for the last decade or so. He couldn't remember things... didn't know who I was..." Trowa had to stop when his voice broke. He took a moment to move away to throw away the dirty dish water over the coals. It left them with spotted moonlight to see by. When he came back, he felt a little more collected. Ready to continue.

"... I am so sorry..." Quatre whispered, not knowing what else to say.

Trowa shrugged tightly, "It is not your fault. The elders warned me away from a human lover, but-" Trowa’s smirk was tight and wry, "But I'm young, and I wouldn't listen."

"... Did you love him?" Quatre wanted to know, watching Trowa’s shape as he moved around a bit, obviously fidgeting. Though it was dark, he could still somewhat see his face, and it looked pained, and curiously, he knew that Trowa had been waiting to speak to someone about this.

"Honestly? I do not know. I cared a great deal for him, and I was very attracted to him when we met, but I don't know if it was real love.” That had been hard to admit. Trowa didn’t think he’d ever said that out loud before. Keeping his hands busy by sorting the dishes was a good distraction, and let him give voice to the things he’d locked away. He knew it’d been a mistake to be with a human, but he couldn’t say he regretted it.

"... Do you have good memories of your time together?" Quatre asked, desperate to bring a little levity into Trowa’s heart.

"I suppose so, yes." Trowa said, finally abandoning the dishes and getting comfortable on the ground, where they’d set up their sleeping rolls. "He was a good man. Worked hard. I didn't get to see him as much as I would have wanted. I had duties in the fey and he was not allowed there."

That was new - and a good way to steer the conversation away, Quatre thought, "You mean, humans can't be there?"

"Humans without magic, no... It's forbidden, but also, it is a hard place for those without it. He could not even make it past the forest-- it drives those without magic mad, tossing them around in all directions until they are lost and pushed out again. It is a protection."

"... That's so sad," Quatre whispered. “He couldn’t even come see your home…”

Trowa shrugged, "It is in the past"

Quatre scooted closer to Trowa and wrapped an arm around him, "I... want to make it not hurt anymore."

Trowa swallowed hard, but his body relaxed into the hug. His emotions were turbulent, insecurity and fear dipping low, but comfort and affection peaking high. "I have already said... if we get to the temple and you meet another, one who you are soul-bound to, I will not do well. I am sorry..."

Quatre bit his lip. He hardly knew the elf! A week ago, he’d been living happily, though clumsily, at the inn, going through life, blissfully ignorant of magic. A week ago, he had no idea that so much hung in the balance. A week ago, he’d thought relations between men was a taboo subject, and nearly unheard of.

And today, he sat in the dark with an elf who desperately wanted Quatre to be his soul-bond. Quatre could practically taste the desire rolling off the hot-blooded elf, and he’d be lying to himself if he said he wasn’t similarly affected… but Trowa was talking about more than intimacy. There was an intensity in his yearning that caught Quatre off guard when he let himself become receptive to Trowa’s feelings. He was talking about the elf version of marriage - but it went even deeper than he expected. What could he possibly say to that? Should he encourage him, despite his own insecurity or turn him down and break his heart?

"Do you think ... it is possible that you and I might be soul mates?" Trowa asked, "I do not have the magic that sees those ties. Others in the fey do... but not I..."

Hell if _he_ knew! He didn’t know what was possible and what was not, but given all he’d learned in the past few days, "I... I think it could be possible, yes... Is that different than soul-bonds?" Quatre asked softly.

Trowa smiled-- then insecurity flared inside him, "No... No, you are the One, you will soul bond to someone far more powerful than me... Maybe someone like me. But, not me, I am too young." He didn't even answer the question about soul mates.

"I'm even younger," Quatre reminded him playfully.

Trowa smiled tightly, "All of the One are young in our terms. They're humans… or halflings."

Quatre was quiet for quite a while, one arm wrapped around him still. "I... still want to be with you. I want to get to know you.”

"Be with me, how?" Trowa had to ask, just to make sure they were on the same page.

"... Like this..." Quatre whispered, leaning against his side, his head on Trowa's shoulder.

Trowa automatically wrapped his arm around Quatre to pull him closer and breathed in his scent, smiling softly, "I like this very much," he admitted.

"I like this too," Quatre said softly, closing his eyes.

"I hope you are the One" Trowa said softly, running his hands through his hair, "Because then I will get to see you every day."

"... And if I'm not... can I stay with the Fey?" In truth, he wasn’t sure he could ever go back to living at home. He didn’t think they’d ever take him back. He really had no place to go after this.

"With the amount of magic you have? I bet you will be ASKED to stay." Trowa was confident in at least that much. With the appearance of Duo, he had begun to doubt a little. Heero was older, after all, he could probably sense things that Trowa couldn’t and he had more experience in general. Still, when he looked at Quatre, he began to doubt his doubt.

"I'd like that... I want to stay near you," Quatre yawned. It was getting very late and Quatre was getting very, very sleepy.

"You are giving ME hope now, Quatre, and if you leave me for another Guard, I will be devastated. You do not choose who you are soul bound to, your magic chooses it."

Quatre peeled himself away from Trowa and settled down on his mat, bringing up a thin sheet to cover himself with, "... I didn't mean to get your hopes up... but... is there a definitive way of knowing?" He was having trouble keeping his eyes open, but it was nice to be so close to Trowa.

Trowa smiled and helped Quatre with the sheet, "There are seers in the Fey. They will know."

"... I want it to be you,” Quatre said around a yawn.

Trowa leaned over, and pressed a gentle kiss to his forehead, "Shh now, Quatre... Shh. Sleep now. We will know soon"

Quatre smiled and rolled over to his side, smiling a little, "Mmmkay..."

Trowa felt his heart clench at the sight. He didn’t know if he could handle it if Quatre was meant for someone else. If he didn’t have a soul-bound, because he was human, he could try to convince Quatre to be his bounded - a life-bound. Granted, Quatre wouldn’t live as long as him, and the thought of him dying left him feeling brittle, but knowing that Quatre would share a life with him was enough of a silver lining. Wanting to be close to Quatre, he pushed his sleeping roll against Quatre’s so that they could sleep with their arms around each other. He didn’t care about, nor heed, the meaningful looks thrown their way by the others.


	8. One more stop

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Duo curses a bit more than Quatre and Trowa do. Not sure why that comes out with Duo specifically. 
> 
> I apologize for the long wait and short chapter, but I'm hoping that since this is out, I can move past my slight block.

Chapter 8

Trowa woke early, and with Heero in tow, the two elves went to do some morning prayers and planning. Duo walked over to Quatre's bed and plunked down, poking Quatre with a stick, "Wake up! Wake up!"

Quatre, who’d been sound asleep, jumped - awake almost instantly, "What happened?”

Duo nearly fell over laughing. When Quatre kicked him petulantly, he sat back up, grinning like a madman, "Nothing! Nothing! I just got the urge to poke someone with a stick and Heero and Tro were gone already, so you’re the lucky bastard I picked!” 

Quatre grunted, and stood up, slowly, “Where’d they go?”

“They’re praying or something," Duo said, rolling his eyes as he picked leaves out of his hair. He hated sleeping in the forest for just that reason. 

Quatre rubbed his face and stretched, his back and shoulders making satisfying cracking sounds, "Are we leaving soon, then?"

"Proooobably!” Duo grinned and bounced onto his feet, not relinquishing his hold on the long stick in his hand.

“Oh?” Quatre asked, “You think so?” He ran his fingers through his hair, picking out a twig. Frowning, he tossed the offending thing away. 

“Because I want to leave,” Duo said nonchalantly, “and Heero mostly does whatever I want. It’s pretty awesome," he added cheekily. 

"Trowa is the same... he really does spoil me," Quatre admitted shyly, bending over to roll up his sleeping mat, mostly in an effort to hide the smile that was creeping over his face.

"He's also totally head-over-heels in love with you, in case you didn't catch onto that," Duo said, gauging Quatre's reaction. Surely blondie couldn’t be  _ that _ dense!

“I know,” Quatre blushed, "But… he's also afraid I might have another as a soul mate."

"OH is THAT why there wasn't more hanky-panky last night. He's playing afraid! Well, I can try to get him to confess if you like!"

“DUO!” Quatre squeaked, looking absolutely mortified. “Don’t you DARE say anything to him! Things are complicated enough. And anyway, he already told me he likes me. But he's so afraid... He won't take it well if I have a soul-bonded that isn’t him. He wants to wait and see if one of the seers can tell him if we belong together.”

Duo looked at Quatre skeptically, but helped him with the bedding, just for something to do. "Oh… Well okay. It looks to me like you do, belong together, I mean. But... What do I know?" he added flippantly, shrugging as he held up the rolled-up bedding. 

"Can you see? Really?" Quatre asked, a bit hopeful and a little fearfully.

Duo looked at him quizzically, “Wha-?” Then it dawned on him, "Oh! no no no! I just- I meant with my eyes. I'm a human, like you. I can’t  _ “see” _ shit. I just mean it seems to me like you both got it bad for each other and you're good for each other, I think. You can calm Trowa down in a heartbeat and he's always looking out for you. It’s cute. Kind of annoying, but cute."

Quatre packed up the rest of his belongings and headed towards the horses, getting everything ready for when Heero and Trowa came back. When Duo followed, Quatre got the distinct impression that the man was going to try and ask embarrassing questions, so Quatre offered up information to spare himself the awkwardness.

"He's had a human lover before... and he died. It’s why elves don’t try and get to know humans, I think. We have too short a lifespan."

"Heero never talks about what would happen if he and I aren't actually soul bonded. I get the feeling he's hiding something from me," Duo said, making sure the packs were secure on his own horse while Quatre tended to his. “That… really sucks for elves, doesn’t it? It sure explains a hell of a lot, though.”

“What do you mean?” Quatre asked. 

Duo shrugged, “I don’t know… it’s just… Heero’s so hot and cold sometimes. I can tell he’s trying to be  _ detached _ or some shit like that, but then he lets his guard down and…” then it was Duo’s turn to blush. “Let’s just say, he’s a bit of a firecracker. Still - I can tell he’s trying very hard not to get attached, and it kind of pisses me off.”

"Humans grow old and die, and unless the human is an elf’s soul mate, the elf will have to deal with the grief of the loss. Soul mates, no, soul-bonds, at least from what I understand, share life force. It’s the only way a human will have the longevity of an elf. It is both romantic and tragic," Quatre sighed. "Trowa never did tell me if soul mates and soul-bonds are the same thing."

Duo nodded pensively, letting that sunk in, "That has got to be hard for Trowa… And Heero, I guess. I see why he doesn’t want to get too emotionally attached.” He blew his bangs out of his face and shook his head. “This sucks... How about you? Other elf lovers?"

"I've never had a lover," Quatre admitted, ducking his head. 

"A girl instead?" Duo goaded, frowning a little.

"No. Not one of those either," Quatre replied, studiously avoiding looking at Duo. WHY did he have to ask so many personal questions? It’s not like it was any of his business!

"Seriously?!” Duo grinned, wanting to tease him over it, but managed to contain himself. “Oh my... well... it's a good thing Trowa's being slow, then, and good thing he knows what he's doing. He'll make sure you don't get hurt." Duo smiled then, tugging Quatre’s arm, "Let's get something fixed for breakfast. Our boys will be back soon."

Quatre nodded and followed Duo, "... Don't tell him. Please?"

"Tell him what? That you’re a virgin?” he grinned when he made Quatre turn even more red, “It's not my place." When Quatre let out an annoyed huff, Duo just laughed and dug into a pack for a half-loaf of bread and what appeared to be some preserves. He divided the bread into four and when he saw Heero coming back to the camp, he took his and Heero’s light breakfast and went to meet him, leaving Quatre with his and Trowa’s.

A few moments later, arms were wrapping around Quatre's waist, and a slow kiss was pressed against his neck, "Morning."

Quatre should have been startled, but he could feel the warmth of Trowa’s presence as he had come into their circle. His eyes fluttered shut, enjoying the warmth against his back and the soft lips against the delicate skin of his neck. 

"Hello, handsome," Quatre whispered, "Where were you and Heero this morning?"

Trowa smiled, "Praying. Scheming." He said with a laugh, "And just talking. Working out how we will make this work. We argued a little, so we made sure to stay away so as not to hurt you. But we’ve mostly resolved things now."

"Good. I don't like fighting,” Quatre agreed.

"Heero and I have agreed on how to deal with that." Trowa said, looking proud.

"Oh?" Quatre asked curiously, taking a piece of bread with preserves on it and handed it to Trowa. 

Trowa accepted his breakfast and took a seat with Quatre to enjoy it, "You'll see. We worked out a code word. And when we need to yell it out, we're going to walk away and do it far from you."

Quatre frowned. He didn’t want them to keep fighting, but perhaps if they were far enough away, it wouldn’t hurt. "Oh... Okay... that works, I think."

"It's the best we could come up with, so be proud that we came to that without punching each other!" Trowa said, laughing, "Celebrate the small steps, darling."

Trowa’s laugh made Quatre smile. After the conversation they’d had last night, it was good to see him laughing. Quatre took a bite of his bread, chewed and swallowed thinking about that, "I still don't want you fighting... but if it's less than before, I'll take it.”

Trowa hugged him tight, and then pressed a kiss to his temple, "Alright. Good. Let’s finish packing and get on the road. Only one more village to pass through, but it's one known to be hostile to elves."

"Then to the fey forest?

"Yes. The road we're on forks just after that last town. They're only so hostile because so many fey go through it and it causes them trouble," Trowa said, standing and brushing leaves off himself.

"Can we go through quickly?” Quatre asked, getting up as well. He wanted to know what kinds of problems the elves caused, but a nagging feeling in the back of his head distracted him. The more he was around Trowa, the more he noticed his magical perceptions and the more he was convinced that going to the Fey would give him opportunities to learn about his magic, even if he wasn’t their Equilibrium. 

"As quickly as we can, yes. It makes Heero and I nervous, and that is why we planned for this. You and Duo will ride beside us. We will hold back a little today so that we can go through during twilight, when it's still light enough to ride, but dark enough to hide our features to those who aren't looking too hard."

Quatre nodded, then froze for a moment, something suddenly stealing his breath. He felt like he’d been winded, and trepidation crawled through him as if it were a swarm of ants on his skin. The sensation prompted him to begin packing more quickly, "We need to leave... something is looking for us."

That seemed light a fire under Trowa. He quickened his pace and became more alert. Heero, noting the change in Trowa, followed suit. The horses were mounted and they four were on their way quickly, Trowa pushing the pace a little faster than planned, just to make Quatre feel safer.

Quatre struggled a little to keep up, but he felt the danger getting further and further away as they sped up. It was almost as if whatever was looking for them had to stop when the sun came out. 

Quatre turned in his saddle, this time, he deliberately attempted to tap into that sense in the back of his head. He’d never tried it before, but it seemed like as good a time as any to embrace this. He slowed his horse and turned it around so he was facing the direction that they’d come from, brow furrowing as he searched. 

“Yo! Quat! What’s the hold up?” Duo called out, having noticed that Quatre had stopped. 

Trowa and Heero, having been too far ahead hadn’t noticed Quatre had stopped until Duo had called out. When they were alerted, Trowa raced back, worried. 

“Quatre? What’s wrong? We need to keep going,” he said anxiously, his horse mimicking his master’s nervousness by stomping at the ground.

Quatre shook his head, “I’m fine,” he assured them. "They've stopped... I think they're asleep... we should try to cover as much ground as possible."

By then, Heero was within earshot, “Then let’s not waste this opportunity. We need to put as much distance between us and them as we can. Try to keep up,” he said, giving Quatre a condescending look, which Trowa bristled at, but didn’t comment on. He shared Heero’s sense of urgency. 

With Heero also worried, the four pressed forward. The city loomed on the horizon, with the houses and inns and taverns looking dark and uninviting. They had arrived much earlier than they had originally planned; the intent had been to take their time getting there and pass through at twilight, not in broad daylight. But that had been before they knew they were being pursued. They had to get to the Fey, the sooner the better. According to Heero, their magic would be stronger in the forest, assuming the pursuers could even get in.

As they crested the hill, Quatre looked at the city, with its dirty streets and its ominous presence, "Is this the place? Can't we go around?"

"Not without sacrificing three days" Heero said with a grunt. 

Trowa pulled his hood up, "We will ride through and be out in less than an hour if we don't stop. Let’s try.”

Quatre nodded, and spurred his horse to onward, "We can't stop.”

Trowa spurred the horse onward as well, shooting significant glances to Heero, who kept his hand on Wing, just in case.

Duo pulled a knife out of seemingly nowhere, held it ready to defend himself, and followed suit.

Quatre held onto the reins tightly and willed his horse to hurry. He had a bad feeling. He sincerely hoped it was nothing, that he was just being paranoid, but lately, these sinking feelings were followed by - 

_ WHOOSH! _

An arrow flew through the air, the shaft streaking past,  just scant inches in front of Trowa's face. Only his reflexes had saved him; had the elf not turned his head when he heard the arrow fly, he would have been the first casualty. 

"SHIT!" Duo growled, spurring the horses on faster, "GO!"

The four of them urged their horses into a run, the animals racing faster, sensing their riders’ distress. 

Quatre just barely kept from screaming, pain blossoming in his chest, and spurred his horse harder. He didn't know where he was going, just followed, hoping to get through in one piece.

Heero took point, the horses following his mare. Trowa turned on his horse, digging into the saddlebags. Another arrow came close to Duo-- but by now they were ready. From the pack on his horse’s flank, Trowa pulled out a bow and one shining arrow. He pulled back, and aimed, keeping his arm steady despite the gallop of the horse. He held the bow taut for only a moment before loosing the arrow. With one sharp SNAP, the arrow flew from the string, hitting another arrow that had been flying straight for Trowa's face.

Quatre followed Heero's horse, feeling some of his anxiety drain from him, presumably feeding Trowa's magic. He really didn’t have the wherewithal to examine it. And when they escaped the city, instead of slowing down, his horse just kept running like the wind - straight for the treeline.

Bringing up the rear of their group, Trowa was snapping arrows left, right, and center, shocked at how perfect their aim was, surprised at the magic coursing through him arms and bow. The city-scape broke and they were riding towards the cover of the woods. The arrows stopped as they cleared the edge of the forest. 

Duo looked back to see if anyone was giving chase -- then laughed, "There’s a sign! It says intruders will be fired upon! Assholes just forgot to put a sign on the way IN!"

Despite the arrows ceasing, they didn’t stop just at the edge of the wood. Quatre's horse got ahead of them all and didn't stop until it was well into the forest where she found a clearing and waited patiently for the others to arrive. They didn’t have to wait too long.

The small group broke through the clearing, each one of them panting and feeling the rush of adrenaline coursing through them. 

"... Is everyone alright?" Quatre asked, patting his horse’s neck, his eyes scanning over his companions looking for injury. 

Trowa nodded-- a slight drop of blood from the tiny scratch on his cheek. He was panting, his glowing gold eyes fading back to their usual shade of green as he stowed his enchanted bow. It had to have been enchanted for Quatre to have missed it after days (or was it weeks?) of them riding together. 

Heero was at Duo's side, and both of them nodded, "We made it... But… Where did all that magic come from?!" It was the most excitable that Quatre had seen Heero. The dark elf was perturbed and he clearly did not like being out of the loop, "I could see it feeding into Trowa's arrows! I've not seen him do that before."

Quatre looked like he’d been caught doing something bad, like stealing a cookie when Iria wasn’t watching. "Y-you could see that? I-I thought Trowa was keeping my magic from getting tangled again,” he admitted. “I couldn’t help it…” 

Trowa nodded slowly, "He was feeding my magic with his," he confirmed. He, wasn’t quite as bashful - instead, he was almost preening, like he was silently gloating that  _ he _ was right about Quatre.

Heero looked at Quatre skeptically. Quatre wasn’t sure what he was looking for, but Heero seemed ... unsure. Heero looked from Quatre to Duo, then back again. "Let's get to the temple!" he growled, dismissing what he could not explain and pushing the horse forward, deeming the conversation OVER. 

Trowa stayed near the back, closest to Quatre. "Thank you, Quatre. I am grateful for your help," he whispered, not wanting Heero to hear and get even more unsettled. 

Quatre took on a distinct tone of pink around the neck and ears at the complement. He gave Trowa a shy smile and shrugged, "I didn't know I was helping... but I'm glad I was and that you're safe."

Trowa rode alongside him, and reached out, entwining their fingers tightly. "I fight only to protect you" He said softly, "Only for you."

Quatre held his hand tightly and smiled a little, "... Thank you."

"Cut the cuteness until we're home! I don't want to be ambushed again. We're protecting cargo that is too important!" Heero growled, and Trowa immediately dropped Quatre's hand, remembering himself.

"So we're cargo now?" Quatre asked looking over at Duo, "Is he always like that?"

Duo managed to crack a smile, sensing the mood lightening now, and began to laugh, "Sometimes,” he agreed. “But he gives us too little credit. Not only are we cargo; we’re annoying cargo for sure! HIGH MAINTENANCE!" 

Trowa laughed at that, snorting just a little.

"If I'm cargo, does that mean I don't have to help set up camp?" Quatre asked innocently. “Or help with the cooking?”

Grinning like a fool, Duo chimed in, "YEAH! I think it means we get a free ride! We could be like, fancy-ass princes or something! Not do anything- HEY HEY! Aren't me and Quat here supposed to be all super-special??! 'Ro! 'Ro! Get me my slippers!" Duo hollered jokingly. “And I want a snack! ‘Ro! Make me a sammich!”

Trowa began to laugh uproariously, and Heero began to turn odd colors, glaring at Duo... until Duo's bright smile made Heero crack a tiny smile himself.

"And tea!" Quatre chirped, getting into it as well, "And some biscuits too. Please."

"Tea and biscuits!" Trowa chuckled, unable to keep his composure. "Yeah, okay! Willow-bark tea and clay biscuits maybe!"

“You're elves... you're supposed to be resourceful," Quatre pointed out, encouraged when Duo nodded sagely. 

“Yeah, what blondie said,” Duo added. 

Heero was turning all sorts of colors under the collar, his hands tightening on the reins.

Trowa, on the other hand, laughed brightly, "Mmmmm! Clay! What's wrong with that, hmm? Sounds delicious to me!" he teased, the horses still making good time.

Duo snorted, "Heero's the color of a tomato" He chuckled.

“Oh, he is!” Quatre chirped merrily, "Is he holding his breath?"

"Heero doesn't need to BREATHE" Trowa joined in on the teasing, "He's the GENERAL! Untouchable!"

"Oh... so not breathing is a General requirement? I can rule THAT out of my aspirations list," Duo laughed. 

Heero colored even more, not taking kindly to the friendly ribbing. He glared at Trowa, the only person he could lash out at,  "You SHUT it, Peon! Or I'll have you flogged for that!" Heero growled in his 'General voice'. Trowa, in fact, was a peon, and he shut up in moments, looking a little pale.

Duo didn't look to happy, "Why you gotta be like that, Heero? We were all teasing you! Just because Trowa’s younger than you doesn't mean you have to treat him like that. Lead by example, asshole!"

"I guess he only had one person to yell at since we're cargo," Quatre muttered towards Duo. "We don't merit a scolding."

Duo frowned, "Yeah well, Heero ain't getting NOTHING tonight, that's for sure. Ill-tempered humorless, son of a"

"DUO!" Heero growled, turning even more red, if that was even possible, "Can't you keep our personal lives to YOURSELF?"

"Quatre -and Trowa- are my FRIENDS, Heero, and I'm going to tell them what I want to tell them and I don't really care if you're the grand king of all the land, you aren't the boss of me and never will be, so get the hell off your HIGH HORSE and join the rest of the world!" Duo snapped back. "And until you realize that you're no better than anyone else, this conversation is DONE!"

Trowa looked at Quatre, the look one that screamed, 'what am I supposed to do?!' That, and panic.

Quatre reached out and held Trowa's hand, giving it a squeeze, "It's their quarrel."

Trowa slowed his horse just a little, letting Duo and Heero, still snapping back and forth, get a little ahead, "...I think I see why fighting makes you so uncomfortable..." he said with a grimace.

"With them it's different…” Quatre whispered, wincing a bit, “but it doesn't feel any better."

"Do me and Heero LOOK like that?" Trowa asked, watching Heero and Duo. They were sniping, glaring and then turning their backs on the other like two school children bickering over a dolly.

"Worse... but close enough," Quatre admitted. “You do end up looking a bit like school children, though about a hundred times more lethal.”

Trowa laughed a little, and let them lead the way, bickering and all. The forest only got darker and denser and night began to crawl in on them. They were almost at the fey... nearly there... But not near enough to make it before nightfall.

"Are we making camp or traveling at night?" Quatre asked.

Heero looked at Trowa, Trowa looked at Quatre... "It’s...very dangerous.... but what do your senses say?"

"I don’t feel anyone looking for us in here"

"Is it safe to camp?" Heero asked, looking to Quatre and trusting him

"Yes. I don't feel anything that means us harm,” Quatre confirmed after taking a moment to really  _ feel _ the environment around them. 

"GOOD!" Duo exclaimed, stretching widely and stopping his horse, "Let's camp here. Right here. Now. On horseback if we must!" 

Trowa laughed a little at that, and slid off his horse, walking it a little more to a clearing, starting to roll the beds out there.


	9. Hall of Objects

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Friday!  
> Medium length chapter to get your weekend started off on the right foot. Enjoy!

Chapter 9

After the next ambush where an arrow had almost taken Quatre away from them, Trowa decreed that Quatre would share his ride, with the extra horse holding the gear for both. Quatre had protested a little, but it didn’t take too much convincing that this would be the better way to ride. Besides, he rather enjoyed the feeling of having Trowa at his back. 

As they rode through the forest, Quatre could feel a hum through the trees. He could feel the animals that came out to curiously watch them, and since the last ambush (Heero had called them Darkwood Sprites), Quatre hadn’t really felt anything amiss. He could tell that there were others watching them, but he only sensed curiosity - he saw no reason to alarm anyone because of it. It was almost as if the closer they got to the center of the fey forest, the more difficulty those dark entities had in following. 

They rode for a whole day, stopping twice to stretch their legs and water the horses. Trowa kept his arms wrapped around Quatre's waist securely and as the sun began to dip past the treeline, he lead the horse to the very edge of a forest to a clearing. On the other side of the clearing, the trees were HUGE, tall and thick... and so close together that they formed what looked like a wall. The change was abrupt and foreboding; magic, much more concentrated than in the forest, sparked in the air for anyone who could see it. Only those with magic were supposed to be able to find the entrance; Trowa knew it, saw it clearly, but he waited, "Do you see how to get in, Quatre?"

"There's an archway, right there," Quatre said, looking confused, "It's as plain as day."

There was a space between the trees, right in the middle of the clearing, where vines had grown into a curved archway, but revealed little of what lay beyond. It was clear that the space was the passage - it was large enough for two farmer’s carts to go through at the same time. 

Heero was asking Duo the same, and he pointed at it too as if they were stupid for asking. 

Heero and Trowa grinned.

"Test one? Pass," Heero acknowledged, then walked the horses towards the entrance and into the Fey woods.

Quatre looked at Duo and Duo at Quatre, both sharing a look.

"Do they think we're blind or just idiots?" Duo asked, tossing his braid over his shoulder. 

“Neither,” Heero grunted, “But it was necessary. Beyond this gate lies the fortress of the fey - it is where the majority of us fey folk live. There are villages on the other side of the wall, beyond it, is the fortress. This is the biggest, most accessible gateway into the human realm. Welcome Equilibrium Claimant Duo, Equilibrium Claimant Quatre,” Heero said formally. 

As they walked through the leafy gates of the tree fortress, the veil that concealed what lay beyond lifted, and Quatre couldn't help but look around wildly. Everywhere he could see he saw sprites and tiny pixies flitting about, fairies weaving what looked like moss and everywhere, people -  _ elves,  _ he reminded himself - waved at Trowa and Heero. As they made their way further in, Quatre started to notice the structures. The houses were unlike anything Quatre had seen; some were carved right into rock, some homes were in the trees and some were ON the trees among the branches. There were no paved streets and all the livestock was un-penned, but they didn't seem to wander outside their respective clearings. The canopy cover was thick, and here and there pockets of light shown down on circles lined in stones, and then in the very center of the rather vast and dense community loomed a marble pillar almost as high as the trees themselves and four times as wide. 

Trowa kissed Quatre’s temple softly, though trying to be discrete, "...Welcome to my home" He said softly into his ear. "I'm... very glad to be able to share this with you," he hummed. The horses knew home, and sped up a little to get there faster. Quatre snuggled back against Trowa and when they arrived and finally stopped, he dismounted, but stayed VERY close to Trowa, looking rather shy but openly curious. Now that they were closer, Quatre could see that the pillar was a temple and that the whole place was carved straight into the stone... everything, every step, every alcove, every sconce was part of the same rock. 

"... Beautiful," he whispered reverently. It was unlike anything he’d ever seen before. The amount of detail carved into the arched doorways was impressive. Quatre thought he could see bees and lizards carved onto the stone along with the vines that lined every apparent window and doorway, but surely he was imagining it. He’d have to get a closer look to confirm. 

A flooding of men began to come out of the temple, all dressed similarly to Heero and Trowa, and all with the same silver hoop earring bearing the symbol of the Equilibrium.

As the men took up their positions, their formations arranged  in rows on each side of the entrance to the temple, a handsome middle-aged looking woman with long red hair walked out. The woman’s dress was white and sparkling as if spun from magic itself and her smile was soft and warm... like sunshine. 

"I am the priestess of the temple... What do you bring us?" She asked, looking at the four, verdant eyes sparkling. 

Quatre looked to Trowa for direction,  _ what do I do? _ He asked in his head, wishing he'd asked about protocol. The woman was beautiful, mature, and stately. She was very intimidating for a young man who’d known the business end of a wooden spoon at the hands of his oldest sister. 

Trowa slid a hand to the small of Quatre’s back, reassuring him, but it was only there for a moment. Trowa took a step forward again and fell to a knee before bending at the waist in a bow. Beside him, Heero also bowed, but he did not take a knee. 

"My Lady... we bring you... Two claimants of the Equilibrium," Heero said, his voice booming with authority. 

Immediately, the crowd that had gathered around them burst into chatter. In fact, even the guards weren’t immune; though at attention, most succumbed to exchanging furtive glances. Two? How? Was Trowa mistaken, or could it possibly have been Heero mistaken? There had never before been two Claimants in their known history and therefore, had no precedent. 

Quatre and Duo looked at each other; both were very uncomfortable at the buzz all around them. Duo looked like he was ready to bolt at any moment, but the only thing that was stopping him was the sheer amount of people that surrounded them. 

"We were hoping, my lady,” Quatre interjected, “that the elders of the temple would tell us if either of us are what your people seek." He found that he couldn’t help speaking up - he knew somehow, that Trowa was not at leave to speak freely. 

Duo looked at Quatre with a newfound appreciation; Quatre was braver than he’d been given credit for… though maybe not against things like trolls and dark sprites. 

There seemed to be a collective breath held as all eyes turned to the woman with red hair. She seemed to consider it, looking over Duo and Quatre speculatively before nodding, "...Yes... we can come to a consensus on that, if there is...confusion.” She turned her gaze at Trowa, and then Heero, then back to Duo and Quatre. Her eyes changed to a glowing gold, seeing the small group through the lens of her magic - and her brows went to her hairline, "...Come into the temple, both of you. We'll get this sorted."

Quatre and Duo shared a look and together, they stepped forward. The two walked together, past Trowa and Heero, between the columns of soldiers, and through the temple archway. 

They'd be tested now and Quatre just hoped it wouldn't hurt.

The priestess led the two through the halls, escorted by guards, dressed much like Heero and Trowa,but with white cloaks. It almost felt like they’d been sent into a labyrinth, but the two followed without complaint. 

They went down a set of marble stairs, stopping when they finally arrived at a massive pair of doors that opened as they approached.  She led them into the room and asked them to sit with a motion of her hand. "Just wait here" She said, and walked off. 

Quatre took a seat, and so did Duo, but the moment the doors had closed behind her, the two were on their feet, exploring. The room had several tables and shelves in it, all full of interesting objects. There were boxes with jewelry, weapons, combs, drinkware… all of it beautiful and unearthly. In fact, everything in the room hummed with Magic... and there were many, many trinkets all around. Quatre walked towards one of the displays and admired the crystals and gold coins and pens and orbs, leaves and small frogs and daggers. 

Duo sauntered up only after a few moments, poking at stuff willy nilly, "Wow, they have a lot of crap in here..."

Quatre looked at all the trinkets and then looked up at Duo, "... They're amulets... Do you think they belonged to Equilibrium of the past?"

Duo shrugged,"Maybe. But the way Heero talked, I didn't think there were THIS many before, they lived really long, you know?” 

“I agree,” Quatre frowned, looking at all the objects in the room. “These are artifacts,” he concluded. “They have to be. Like the one Heero has - Wing.”

“Yeah, uhuh,” Duo said, distractedly, looking around as if something was calling him. “Hey..." Duo trailed off, and looked at Quatre, "...Do you think, if I'm the One, that I'll get to live as long as Heero?" He asked, sounding far away and wistful.

"From what I understand, if you're Heero's soul-bond, it wouldn't matter what you were, you'd live as long as he did anyway," Quatre answered, looking at Duo oddly. He was starting to get an odd sensation from the long-haired young man. Up until this point, Quatre hadn’t sensed much magic in him, but then again, he hadn’t exactly been trying. Now, however, something strange was surrounding him. Something like a mist, but it was too faint - it was probably his imagination. 

Quatre was interrupted from his musings when Duo clapped a hand over his shoulder. 

Looking relieved, Duo smiled, "You're right. We talked about that before. I’m not sure what got into me. And if we are me ‘n Heero, I mean, we're bound to be together, right?" 

Quatre nodded and Duo froze. Something caught his eye. He dropped his hand from Quatre’s shoulder and walked a little further down the room, his eyes fixated on a mirror. Unlike other mirrors, however, this one reflected black. 

Quatre watched as the young man walked to the mirror in a rather trance-like state. The mist was back and not only was it swirling around Duo’s feet, it was practically pouring out of the polished black surface of the mirror. All of magical objects in the room seemed to scream at that moment. In Quatre’s head, he could feel how much each object’s magic recoiled in horror, begging for Duo NOT to touch the mirror! 

Quatre wanted to tell him to stop, but he was frozen in place. He had no choice but to watch, hoping that the feeling of dread in his stomach was needless.

Duo walked over to the hand mirror and picked it up by the black and silver handle. He tilted his head curiously and poked the smooth surface, his hand going in where the glass should have been. And curiously, Duo seemed unaffected. 

Quatre felt the air return to his lungs as he suddenly felt control over his body return to him. He took a step back from Duo, heeding the warnings of the hundreds of objects in the room, "... Duo... you should REALLY not be touching that..."

Duo looked at it, then looked at Quatre, "Why not? It feels fine. It feels… comforting,” he smiled, cradling the mirror in his arms. You want to know what feels odd? THAT thing-" Duo said as he pointed to a crystal, with warm, bright life twinkling inside it. It felt as if the very essence of life and goodness dwelled within it, even from a distance. "Now THAT,” Duo continued, “is something that feels wrong. The mirror feels peaceful." Duo held up at the mirror once more, gazing into it. This time, it began to react to him, showing him images and pictures of the world of the dead; a boat ferrying souls across. Duo looked strangely at peace, a little smile gracing his impish face. “Want to see? It's not creepy, Quat."

Quatre shook his head, “No… that’s okay.” He was looking at the orb that Duo had so callously dismissed and picked it up. It felt sad, but when Quatre held it, it came back to life, glowing warmly, almost as if it were purring. It made Quatre smile and he couldn’t help hugging it against his chest, "This is wonderful! It's so bright and warm and... full of life... that-” he turned his head in Duo’s direction, and what he saw made him forget what he had been about to say, “Duo! Is that a skeleton in the mirror?!" he yelped.

Duo laughed uproariously, "Yeah? So? This mirror is the best! It has something nothing else in here has - BALANCE! That thing,” he pointed at the orb Quatre held, “Creepy little thing... all shiny ... No balance. How can you hold it? It doesn't feel right!" 

Quatre pet the little orb and reassured it before putting it back with its friends (if crystals could be called friends). They probably shouldn’t be touching anything anyway. 

Duo seemed to read his mind because he put the mirror down and continued to walk around the room. But, he seemed to forget quickly; within moments he was back to touching things, making them react and move, and then he got to an empty shelf which made him pause. There was a thin layer of dust, but the way it had settled, Duo knew something had used to be there. Duo waved his hand over, and smiled warmly, "Feels like Heero, right here..."

“Does it?” Quatre asked, looking at a lovely pair of riding gloves, “Then I was right - These are artifacts and they probably didn’t all belong to Equilibrium of the past,” he looked up from the gloves and glanced around the room, “The stick in the corner feels like you."

That got Duo’s attention. “Stick? What stick?” Duo he asked as he walked over to where Quatre was pointing. He tilted his head, scrutinizing it for a moment, to see if he could get the same feeling Quatre got, but he lost patience and simply picked it up, testing the weight in his hand. “This is not a  _ stick _ ,” Duo said, whirling around with it, holding it out. “It's a scythe," he hummed, holding it comfortably, spinning it in his palm, getting used to the feel of it.

Quatre looked over at him and rolled his eyes, "It's a stick. Or rather, a staff, now that I’m getting a better look at it. Until it has a blade, that’s no scythe."

Duo stopped spinning the black staff in his hands and pounded an end against the floor, looking offended. "I know a scythe when I see one! Look at it! What do you mean you don't see the blade?" He was frowning, “You’re not blind to this, are you? Its magic... can't you see it?"

Quatre was about chide him for teasing him, but the words died on his tongue; the staff certainly had a sickle blade at the end of it. “That wasn't there a second ago."

As Quatre watched, the blade was becoming more pronounced the longer Duo held the staff, and Duo didn't seem to notice at all. Instead, he took to spinning the scythe again, humming as he made his way back to the bench where they’d been asked to sit in the first place. "I wonder if we can talk the lady into letting us keep some stuff. This is pretty cool. I think I'll name it something. Something cool. You should name something too, Quat."

"Me?" Quatre asked, “I really don’t think that’s the point of all this,” he said, walking back toward the bench as well. And that’s when he saw them: a pair of vambraces made of hardened leather and gold with carvings of crossed sickles on a shield.

Duo noticed his abrupt halt and the way his eyes were trained on something, “What’d you find, Kitty?”

Quatre gave him a dirty look for that name, but reached out to touch the leather braces that  had been sitting innocuously on a table. "... These... these call out to me."

Duo came to Quatre’s elbow wanting to get a better look, but he really wasn’t all that impressed. "Those are pretty cool, I guess. Defensive,” he added, shrugging a little, not seeing the magic in them. 

In the atrium, where elders watched on, they were all surprised as Quatre picked them up. Those weren't the object of the last One, but they had been from one from far before that... the last man. There hadn’t been a male Equilibrium in nearly a millennia. It was interesting that Quatre would instinctively be drawn towards his object; his artifact.

Quatre put them on and smiled a little when the fit down to his size. That was handy! He had only intended to wear them for a moment, but he found that when he attempted to undo the clasps, they were gone. He couldn't get them off. 

"Umm... Duo?" Quatre called out, uneasily. 

"Yeah?" Duo asked. He’d lost interest in the magical objects and was busy playing with his scythe, slashing it around and making 'yar!' sounds.

"... The vambraces won't come off..."

That got Duo’s attention. 

"...Uh oh...." he said as he came over and looked, tugging at the laces, but the ends of the strings were gone. He began yanking a little, but his fingers couldn’t get any purchase. "Um.. Pretend you had them all along, hope no one notices, and have Trowa do some magic shit to them later?” Duo suggested. “He won't tell."

Quatre didn’t like the idea of lying, or putting Trowa in a tough spot like that. “... Maybe they'll let me keep them?" he asked hopefully, then frowned, "Speaking of Trowa, do you feel Trowa in here?"

Duo looked around, not seeing the tall elf. "No... It feels like...like he USED to be in here... But it's gone now..."

Quatre couldn’t let it go,"... Something in here feels like him,"  he insisted, "... Do you feel it?"

Duo frowned, and tried to follow Quatre... "You're more in tune with him... I'm sorry..."

Quatre walked around the room and pointed at something... a curved piece of red wood... like a partial bow, "That. That feels like Trowa."

"...What do you have that gets you lovin' STICKS?" Duo asked, laughing as he examined it. "I don't feel it, Quat... You're better at that, for sure, but ...it looks like a stick to me. It’s not even a cool scythe like I found!”

Quatre sighed, "It looks like one to me too... like someone didn't finish making a bow. Maybe it’s nothing.”

It was then that the Priestess came back in, smiling warmly at them, "We would like you to join the Elders in the main hall of the temple."

Duo and Quatre jumped, as if they’d been caught raiding a pantry. Quatre immediately put his hands behind his back and shyly took a step closer, "Miss? ... I-I I’m sorry... I can't get these off..." he said, slowly pulling his hands out in front of him to show the vambraces.

The woman gave the young men a mildly disapproving look before laughing a little, “Children, I asked you to sit, didn’t I?” she asked. “Still, it could not be helped. We knew that curious boys such as yourselves would find this hall irresistible. That artifact has chosen you," she said, smiling softly, and warm. 

Seeing his opening, Duo walked up and grinned, holding up the scythe in his hands, “Lady, this either! Can't get it outta my hands! It’s stuck! Can I keep it?" 

The smiles, it seemed, had been reserved for Quatre. She didn't seem to have much of a sense of humor when Duo waved that black staff around and glared at him a little, "The Elders do wish to speak to you about that. Take the mirror too, but stow it away. We shall go down to the main hall where we will eat, then we will talk."

Quatre watched Duo scurry off to get the mirror too and then followed the woman, "Thank you for your hospitality."

She smiled indulgently at Quatre, "No Quatre... Thank  _ you. _ " 


	10. Defying Convention

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Quatre finds himself defying Elf convention without really meaning to - he just wants to be near Trowa.

Chapter 10

When Duo joined Quatre and the priestess, after retrieving and stowing the black hand mirror, the three began to walk down the curving stairs of the temple. The priestess guided them at a slow, meandering pace, making Quatre a bit nervous and Duo restless. Quatre had hoped that they would have been allowed to wash up, but it seemed like that wasn’t in the plan. Meanwhile, Duo had taken to smacking things with his scythe, that at present, had taken the form of a staff, until the Priestess chided him.

“So lady, do you actually have a name or what?” Duo asked, completely unaffected by the chiding she’d given him.

“Yes, I was given a name, but upon taking my current position, I am known as _High Priestess_ ,” the woman said.

“Okay… but what’s your name?” Duo asked.

“That’s not important,” the priestess said, making Duo roll his eyes.

“Listen, Lady-”

“That is _Priestess_ ,” she corrected.

“I ain’t callin’ you that, _Lady_ , so either get used to it or tell me your name!”

By then, Quatre began feeling anxious and his fingers began to tingle for some reason. He wrung his hands together, to shake off the feeling, curious at how it felt like there was static on his fingertips. He looked down at his fingertips, running his thumbs over them, in attempt to dispel some of the energy and nearly crashed into the priestess, who had stopped abruptly.

The priestess took a deep breath and smoothed out her skirts, visibly trying to restrain herself, but as she turned to face Quatre and Duo, her ire began to melt away. “As you wish, my given name was Midii; It was a family name that I have given up upon taking my current position as High Priestess. I would thank you not to use it, however.”

“Then I’m going to call you Lady M,” Duo concluded.

The priestess nodded, turned around, and continued her descent. Curiously, the tingling feeling in Quatre’s fingers also disappeared.

He’d have to ask Trowa about it later.

When they arrived at the large doors to the banquet hall, they found that the hall was already full, with men (and a few women) already sitting at a large banquet table. There were three seats at the head, one for the Priestess at the middle, then a seat on either side of her. To the right of the empty seats the Elders were seated. There were five of them and all were tall, if old, and each seemed to be scrutinizing Quatre's and Duo's movements. To the left, beyond the empty seat, the guards had been arranged, with Heero standing right beside the empty seat smiling. Next to Heero, stood another tall, strong Guard, and another, and another, and another... easily two dozen, all lining their way down the massive table.

They had been assigned seats by order of rank. Trowa couldn't even be seen from the head of the table if he had been seated at the main table at all! There were other tables scattered around, some with guards seated, some with people that looked to be normal elves. He also noted that some guards were not seated and were actually working. There was a pair of them at every entrance and he noted that as they arrived, some were switching off. He hoped Trowa wasn’t one of those that had to be making the rounds.

“Is there something the matter?” the priestess asked.

“No,” Quatre replied quickly, “It’s just that the table is so long… I was wondering how such a thing could be,” he said.

“The table is enchanted to sit as many people as are needed,” she smiled.

Quatre nodded, but his eyes continued to scan the room, looking for Trowa. It took a moment, but he finally felt Trowa at the end of a table. He sent him warm emotions his way, even if he couldn’t see him, then moved to sit where he was told, nodding a little to the elders, "Thank you for inviting us for dinner… I apologize for making you wait," he added. His training at the inn making him apologize for making anyone wait to get their meal.

Duo immediately launched into a conversation with Heero, waving around his staff under Heero's nose and looking quite proud of himself. There were a few tense silences, as members of the Guard held their breath, waiting for their general to clock the long-haired One for getting so close and into his personal space, but no one could have anticipated what happened next: Heero LAUGHED!!!

Murmurs and chatter erupted almost immediately. Most of the Guards had never heard it before and couldn't help watching the scene.

The Priestess raised her hands and silence fell again. She spoke a few words, then introduced each of the five elders in attendance. She then introduced the three generals, of which Heero was one, and the five captains seated beyond them. She then invited everyone to eat. Within moments, plates were flying out of the kitchen, and soon everyone had a soup in front of them. When the priestess began eating, everyone else seemed to follow suit.

Duo whistled appreciatively and Heero nudged him, which didn’t seem to faze him at all as he heartily started in on his soup.

Once the atmosphere calmed a little, the priestess turned to Quatre, "Do you have questions for us?" She could sense that something was on the boy’s mind, but she was hard pressed to figure out what it could be. The boy just seemed very subdued, unlike the boisterous boy on her other side.

Quatre wrung the cloth napkin on his lap and ducked his head a bit, "Yes.” He cleared his throat, took a sip of water, and continued, “I... I do not know if I am what you are looking for, Duo is more in tune with magic, I’m sure.” He was very nervous at having this woman’s attention focused on him, but he had to get something off his chest. He didn’t feel like he belonged there; he was only an innkeeper, and a clumsy one at that. “I... I have always been told I was a cursed child and so misfortune followed me. It wasn't until Trowa came and did something, "untangled" it, he said, that I've stopped being a danger to those around me. But …” he bit his lip, “I... I'm not sure that he had the right person. I am grateful for what he did and I'd like to stay to learn more about this magic that I somehow have, with your permission, that is."

Quatre laughed a little, nervously, scratching behind his ear, "I suppose that was more of a request than a question."

The priestess looked surprised, "... _Trowa_ found you?” She looked over to where Duo was happily chattering with Heero and frowned, returning her attention to Quatre, “I had assumed that it was General Yuy who had found you. And yes, untangled, you say? Well, we will most definitely allow you to stay around and learn of this magic." She then turned to Duo, "Do _you_ have questions for us?" she asked.

It was evident to Quatre that she didn’t care too much for Duo, but until it was decided, both claimants had to be treated equally.

Duo turned away from what he was saying to Heero at her query and grinned. "Yeah, can I keep my stick?” Duo asked, around a mouthful of bread. “And am I Heero's Soul Bound?"

There was a laugh at the stick comment from the people within earshot, but it was short lived. An eerie silence followed his second question. The elders looked at each other, then to Duo but not a word was said.

Heero's eyes scanned the elders, and he too went quiet, "Neither are here..." He said quietly, "The two with the sight. We will have to wait for their return to know the answer to that."

All around them, Quatre could feel pity being directed at Heero, and it was heartbreaking. By then, Quatre had begun to accept that he and Duo were special, but that didn’t mean that either one of them was what the elves were looking for. They were human, after all. Even if their gifts made them mages, they still had a human lifespan. They might have a slightly longer life than non-mages, if folktales could be believed, but they would grow old and die in the same number of years that it took an elf to reach adulthood. No one could change that, and unless Duo was Heero’s bound, becoming attached to a human would be devastating to the elf when the human inevitably died.

Quatre looked down for a moment, trying to stifle the feelings of sadness, pity and grief, pushing all of that away, and trying not to think of how _he_ might cause Trowa that same kind of pain… again.

"... When will they come back?” Quatre asked, wanting to change the topic, hoping it would make the gloomy feelings disperse, “And... may we wander, or must we be escorted?"

"Escorted,” one of the elders spoke, Hassan, if Quatre remembered correctly. He had a soft, warm voice, "For your own protection. And those with the sight will be back in a few days… probably"

Duo made a face and rolled his eyes, “Probably?”

“They have a tendency to wander and not keep to timelines,” Hassan said. “Being gifted with The Sight makes them both extremely sought after and elusive.”

Duo could understand not wanting to stick to a schedule himself, but he did not like the idea of being followed everywhere. He was about to say something to that effect but Heero’s hand on the end of his braid and the new dish, piled high with succulent meat and creamed potatoes was enough to distract him into not commenting.

Quatre nodded, then screwed up his courage to make a request. "... May I pick my escort?" he asked, surprising all the elves in earshot.

The elders exchanged glances and murmured amongst themselves for a moment, but it was Hassan who spoke spoke up for them all, "I can't see why not... Whom do you have in mind?"

"I would very much like it if you would allow Trowa to be my escort. He's protected me well this far, and I would feel more comfortable being escorted by a familiar face."

This time, murmurs erupted throughout the crowd, not just among the elders. At that point, another one of the elders, Kalir, leaned over, "Are you sure you don't want a more...experienced guard?"

Others seemed to agree, but no one else spoke up. They were all looking at Quatre.

"I'm sure," Quatre smiled, confirming his desire and happy that they were considering his request at all.

“Very well,” Hassan said, giving a little nod. Chatter

There was movement at one of the tables, and Trowa stood. Heero smiled, and leaned back, chanting something. The chair moved from where Trowa had been to a spot that was suddenly open, right beside Heero. Trowa slowly walked over to join it, looking rather red in the face at the questioning looks he was getting and the jealousy being tossed his way from his fellow guards. He kept his head down, and took a seat, silently sending a wave of thanks out to Quatre, but also asking him to keep things low from now on.

Quatre smiled brightly and turned to Hassan, "Thank you very much. I'm sure you understand... in a strange place, we humans cling to familiarity. I realize it’s silly, but..." he shrugged, looking a bit sheepish, “I’ve never been so far from home, and I know I’m safe with Trowa.”

Hassan laughed a little and patted Quatre on the shoulder, “That is quite all right, boy,” he said in a rather paternal way. “We understand. You are hardly the only one to make such a request.”

“That means Heero can be my escort, right?” Duo piped up.

Hassan looked over at Duo, and frowned, “General Yuy is in a station far above being an esc-”

“I’ll do it,” Heero replied. “I brought him here; he is my responsibility,” Heero said in a tone that ended the discussion.

Trowa sent a wave of appreciation again, but this time it was aimed at both Heero and Duo, though Quatre knew full well they wouldn’t feel it. He seemed to be happy to have the spotlight redirected for the time being. Settling into the seat as best as he could, even as people kept watching him, he was glad that he would be allowed to be near Quatre again.

This would be an interesting few days.

Test 2 - Inconclusive.

 

~~~~~

After Dinner-- and it had lasted for HOURS-- the priestess stood up first and touched both Quatre and Duo on the shoulders, "I'll see you to your rooms," she said, bowing to the Elders before leading the two claimants away from the dining hall and to the steps that led up the spire to living quarters. There was no need for Trowa and Heero to follow; it was presumed that the two would remain in their assigned bedrooms for the evening so the two tasked with escorting them would be free for the evening.

Quatre followed along, not questioning where they were going, but admiring the hallways as they walked, Duo beside him, as they climbed higher and higher, "This place is enormous... and gorgeous"  he observed.

Duo nodded along, and the priestess smiled, "It has been our temple for many, many years. Far more than humans seem to fathom. Even our eldest elder does not remember a time without it here." She then stopped, and pointed to a large oak door, "One of you may sleep here tonight."

"You can take the room," Quatre said to Duo, "You've been traveling further than I have."

"I have another" she said quickly, "Just two doors down. They are the same" Duo nodded his thanks and then went in. An appreciative whistle could be heard as the door closed behind him.

The priestess led Quatre to the next room, one with a similar door with intricate carvings decorating the surface. She gave Quatre a little respectful bow as she opened it, revealing the same large four-poster bed made out of living trees, which spiraled up into the ceiling. Seeing that Quatre had all he would need, she bade him goodnight and left him to his own devices, closing the door behind her as she left. All around him, small flames danced away from their candles, moving freely about the room to give it light... But little warmth.

Quatre wandered around, touching things here and there before washing up and curling up on the bed. He noted that his things had somehow been brought up and piled in the corner of the room without his noticing, probably while he bathed, and while he was impressed at how discreet the servants were here, he wasn’t sure he liked that elves (or something else) could walk into his room without his noticing.

Trying to put that out of his mind, he pulled up the blankets, effectively making a cocoon for himself. He was cold; he wouldn't sleep well tonight.

In the guard barracks, Trowa tried to sleep. But he couldn’t.... Not a wink. He could barely even settle long enough to lie down. A few of the other guards were giving him sympathetic looks, but no one seemed brave enough to say anything out loud.

He missed Quatre. Badly. _Quatre, Quatre, Quatre..._

He could look up from the window near his bunk and see the high rooms. One was probably Quatre. He could SEE it, but it was so far! Slowly the lights in the barracks and in the temple went out but still, Trowa couldn't settle. He knew that once the temple was locked for the evening, it was forbidden to enter.

But he knew Quatre was in there.

As soon as the thought entered his head, it wouldn’t leave.

Trowa slid out of bed, and slowly crept away from his bunk and out of the barracks. If anyone could break into the temple, it was a temple guard. He didn’t even care that he was barefoot, wearing the dark green linen pants and shirt they used for sleep as he decided that he wouldn’t spend the night in the barracks if he could help it.

Back in his room, Quatre sighed and laid back on the bed, staring out the window and gazing at the stars he could see through a clearing in the canopy of leaves, _I miss you, Trowa._

Trowa was fast, he always had been. Today, he was making use of that speed and stealth and moved when the guard patrols weren't coming. He vaulted into a window and RAN, dashing across the main hall and up the stairs. He knew when the patrols were coming, so he knew when to slip away, and what corridors were safer than others. Before long, he was up at the 9th level-- the honored guest rooms. If Quatre was anywhere, it was there. He slunk into the hall, trying to keep as quiet as he could, and touched the first door-- He didn't feel Quatre's essence. So he kept moving, touching the next and the next, coming closer to Quatre's door.

Quatre sighed at the futility of trying to sleep. He wasn’t used to having such a large room, let alone one to himself! Back home, his room was little more than a closet and he shared a wall with his sister. Since he’d left, he and Trowa had slept close together and then further into his trip, he had  Duo and Heero nearby as well. Sleeping alone in this room felt like sleeping alone in a cavern, and he didn’t like it.

Frustrated, he shifted in bed and closed his eyes, only to have them snap back open. He felt someone coming and scrambled out of bed. He knew it would be safe... but he wasn’t supposed to be here! He scrambled off the bed, wearing the long sleep shirt that the elves had provided and hurriedly padded to the door while the magical floating lights in the room sprang back to life. He hurried to the door and opened it, peeking out into the hall, holding his breath at what he would fine.

Out in the hall, Trowa was touching the door next to Quatre's, trying to find him. When he heard the sound of movements, Trowa looked up towards the blond and smiled, looking relieved, "Hey handsome..."

"Trowa!" Quatre  whispered, the smile on his lips bright and welcoming. "Come in before they catch you!" he added, scanning for movement in the hall while ushering him in and closing the door behind him. When Trowa was inside, Quatre launched himself at him and hugged him tight, "I couldn't sleep. What in the world are you doing here?"

Trowa wrapped his arms around Quatre, burying his face in Quatre's neck, and began soft, hurried kisses, "Missed you."

Quatre hugged him tighter, tilting his head, letting Trowa kiss him. When had he begun allowing these liberties? He didn’t know and right then, he didn’t care. It felt good and he wanted more, "I missed you too, come to bed with me." When he realized what he’d said, he blushed a bit, but he didn’t take it back. Instead, he held Trowa’s hand as he led him there.

Trowa hummed happily, and walked Quatre to bed, falling in it with his arms around him. Trowa pulled him closer, and kissed his temple softly, "I... I haven't felt so... WRONG before.”

When Quatre gave him a curious look, Trowa explained, “Being away from you; it felt wrong. I couldn’t sleep," he admitted.

Little did he know, that he'd managed to trip more than one silent, magical ward, and only getting all the guards together, and finding General Yuy, who was in charge of the highest order of guards and the ones that would be closest to the Equilibrium was taking a little time. Soon enough, the Captain decided that they couldn’t wait on Yuy and on his command, the White Leaves were dispatched.

Quatre snuggled against his arms, "I couldn't sleep... everything feels off... or it did... now it feels better. A lot better. Stay?" he pleaded, bright blue eyes twinkling in the fairy lights that floated about the room.

Trowa nodded, wrapping his arms tighter around him, settling onto the pillows, pulling Quatre up a bit so that his head rested on Trowa’s chest. Now that his anxiety was lessened, he could feel the exhaustion from the day catching up to him. "Of course," he yawned, “Anything for you.”

Quatre leaned in closer and kissed him softly, "Thank you for coming to me," he whispered as the fairy lights began to dim again, now that Quatre was in bed and starting to settle.

Trowa wound his hand into Quatre's hair, pulling his face closer, and kissed him a little deeper, slow and affectionate.

Suddenly, the lights around the temple all flared to life, brighter than before. Trowa tensed, pushing Quatre away as he rolled out of bed, taking a defensive stance, even though he had no weapon.

"Shit!" He growled.

Quatre tensed too, "What's happening?" He sat up in bed, the vambraces he wore began to pulse a little on his wrists, as if responding to Quatre’s alarm.

They didn't have to wait long. Mere moments after the lights flared, then door was flung open by magic. A dozen guards flooded in, their presence shielded by magic. These were the White Leaves, they were charged with guarding the castle and the occupants. Normally, the Gold Leaves might have been summoned, but until a new Equilibrium was named, the Gold Leaves had been turned into White Leaf guards.

There was silence in Quatre’s room, enough that one could hear a pin drop, but no one made a move. The White Leaves didn’t know what to make of what they’d stumbled upon and even their captain didn’t know how to proceed.

The silence stretched for what seemed like an eternity until it was shattered by cursing from the hallway. One of the doors opened and out ran Heero-- shirtless-- with Duo poking his head out into the hall just behind him. He looked rather ruffled with kiss-swollen lips. "What the hell?!"

Trowa’s knees gave out and he sat on the bed with a guilty look, like a kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar.

Quatre scurried behind him, holding on to his shoulders and didn't let go. He looked very, VERY frightened, ".... What's going on? What do you people want?" The vambraces on his wrists began to pulse a bit, but that was the last thing on his mind.

Trowa could sense Quatre's fear, and he glared at the guards, "Put your damn weapons down! You're frightening him! I wandered in to see him, OKAY?!" he snapped, knowing he would be in serious hot water for speaking that way to White Leaf guards when he himself was only a Green Leaf.

"You IDIOT!" Heero hissed, coming from behind the group of guards, shoving people out of his way, "You tripped the magical alarms!"

Trowa glared hotly at him, "You hypocrite! You were with Duo! Don't look down at me like--- --- Lilies." Trowa growled.

Heero nodded and moved away. Trowa got up, and walked, right through the group of totally confused Guards. Moments later, growling arguments could be heard from down the corridor, and Quatre, though he could barely hear it, clutched his chest. The distance helped, but it still hurt his heart when people he cared about argued to vehemently.

While they were away, Priestess emerged from goodness knew where and made her way into Quatre's room, looking around in surprise, "...What is going on?"

Quatre, meanwhile, was holding his chest, looking very distressed, "They're fighting again.” He motioned towards where Heero and Trowa had gone, but he looked up at her imploringly, "Please, my lady, can't Trowa stay with me tonight? Heero was staying with Duo... please??" He was practically begging, and that didn’t bother him in the least. He just wanted Trowa near, but he couldn’t say why.

"Do you feel unsafe here?" the priestess asked, looking confused. In public, Trowa had been quite well behaved, having shown little indication at the closeness he felt towards the blonde One.

"... I can't sleep. I don't feel unsafe... but I do feel... like it's not secure," Quatre admitted. “Please. I don’t mean to cause trouble, but I would feel better if he were allowed to stay by my side.”

It was then that a much calmer looking Trowa came back into the room. He was still tired, and mad, and missing Quatre. Not caring for the group of White Leaves still awkwardly standing in the room, he walked right past them all, and the priestess, and sat on Quatre's bed. He gave the woman a small nod out of respect, but crossed his arms, "I'm staying here."

And that was that.

Heero strode a moment later, having found a shirt  sometime between his last entrance and having chewed out his underling, and he turned to the guards, "Stand down, disperse, go back to bed. Thank you for your quick reactions. Crisis resolved."

The guards were only too happy to comply and get out of that domestic argument.

Quatre was grateful for how quickly they all cleared out leaving only Quatre, Trowa, Heero, and Priestess M in his chambers.

The priestess looked slightly uncomfortable, "Are you sure you want to stay with… Mister Barton?" She asked again, echoing the concerns of the elders at the dinner earlier that evening.

Quatre nodded, his hand falling away from his chest, sensing that the conflict had passed and the pain was fading, "Yes, I am sure.Trowa has taken excellent care of me... I trust him with my life."

"Very well" She said, bowing. She could tell that the Captain of the guards, General Yuy also trusted the green-soldier, so she had no real choice but the do the same. Trowa was so new to the guards; she didn't quite feel that she knew enough about him to trust with such an important task to him, but the One's mind was made up. She gave a curtsy, and walked out.

Quatre called out a ‘thank you’ to her as she left, and gave Heero a nod as he also too his leave, closing the door behind him.

Once Quatre and Trowa were alone in the room, Quatre waited a few more heartbeats and let out a breath of air that he hadn’t realized he was holding. He then smiled brightly, feeling like he’d gotten away with something monumental (which wasn’t far from the truth - though he had no way of knowing so) and turned to Trowa, "Shall we sleep now?" he asked.

Trowa nodded, slipping into Quatre's bed, and tugging him back into his arms, "Yes, Love. Sleep," he hummed, kissing him once more, gently. He settled into the pillows, making sure Quatre was secure in his arms and well covered by the blankets before he began to let his own guard down, finally letting sleep overtake him.

 _Love._ That was a nice thought. And with that happy feeling in his chest, Quatre fell asleep as well.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> RP-turned-fic between Jess_Eklom and Dentelle_Noir (FFN name) from 2011. 
> 
> I began turning this into a fic in Dec 2016 and I am about 70% through all the RP logs that belong to this story. This story is only about a third complete, so after the RP logs, I'll be on my own (*panic!*), but I am committed to finishing this. 
> 
> A special thanks to lo and ShenLong for consistently being extremely supportive in my foray back into fanfic writing! I love you two!! *snug* 
> 
> While I'm not one to hold chapters hostage (I don't do this, and I never will), these two (presumably) ladies have given me the confidence and will to get me writing again. You have no idea how much your reviews have contributed to rebuilding my writing confidence, but I thank you, from the bottom of my heart. 
> 
> Also, I'd be remiss as a writer if I didn't take the time to thank all you wonderful people (registered users and guests alike) for leaving me kudos. You too have contributed to my getting my writing groove back, so THANK YOU! <3


	11. Let there be briste!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Morning scene where Trowa shows Quatre a little bit of home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry this took a bit to get out. I had a little bit of trouble with it, but I think it came out okay. 
> 
> I did only the minimum amount of proofing because so many characters, including an OC make me go cross eyed. >@.@< I hope y'all enjoy!

* * *

 

**Chapter 11**

Trowa spent the night wrapped around the smaller blonde, sleeping more soundly than he had in a long time. Quatre had not protested his wrapping his arms around him and he felt like the protector he knew himself to be when he woke up next to Quatre. He smiled softly at the blonde, who was still nestled against him, and kissed his neck softly. The sun was up and starting to filter in through the beautiful stained-glass windows above.

Quatre stirred in his spot waking at the lovely sensation of warm lips on his neck and yawned. His eyes blinked open to unfamiliar surroundings and, lazily, he wiped the sleep from his eyes with the back of his hand. Taking a moment to regain his bearings, he smiled up at the now-familiar feel of Trowa by him. "Good morning," he whispered. He couldn’t explain the feeling, but being around Trowa, and being nestled against him as they slept was becoming increasingly comforting. Back home, he would have never entertained his sleeping with a man. But he was far from home now. Home felt like a lifetime ago.

Trowa slid up onto his elbow, and smiled down at him, "Good morning, Quat. Do you think you'll have to do things today?" He should have been at morning training, but he was loathe to leave the comfort of the bed, and his charge.

Quatre frowned, thinking about it. No one had told him what would be expected of him. "I... I don't know... I should probably ask the nice elf lady, the priestess, at breakfast. Why?"

Trowa found himself running his hands down Quatre's side, over the thin linen shirt he wore to bed. "I want to show you my home... Where I am from... My city..."

"I would really love to see that," Quatre said earnestly. He was suddenly wide awake, his eyes sparkling with curiosity and excitement as he reached out to caress Trowa’s cheek.  "I want you to show me everything!"

Trowa laughed, and moved forward, pressing a gentle kiss to Quatre's cheek, "Maybe this morning? Before breakfast?"

"Can we? Now?" Quatre asked, sitting up.

Trowa smiled warmly, and rolled away, sliding off the side of the bed, "Let's" he hummed, putting his shirt back on and finding his boots somewhere under the bed.

Quatre rolled out of bed quickly and dressed as fast as he could. He was SO excited! He’d been wondering what being inside the Fey would be like, and he didn’t get to see too terribly much when they arrived. "Do you think we can make it back before breakfast?" he asked, getting his boots on.

"Or I can feed you briste under the trees," Trowa purred, the word foreign and trilling on his tongue.

"Briste?” Quatre asked, testing the word on his lips. “Is it good?"

Trowa smiled, "I happen to think so. Come." Reaching out and taking Quatre's hand, Trowa walked them out of the room quietly. He was swift, and silent, and soon the two of them broke free of the temple and into the early morning rays of sun, light dew still clinging to the plants on the ground. Still holding Quatre's hand, Trowa breathed in, closing his eyes as he inhaled, "Mmm! I love the air here."

Quatre grinned and followed along, "It's even more beautiful in the morning than it is at dusk!”

There were a few winged creatures flitting about, giving them curious looks, but they mostly kept their distance. The colors of the morning light made Quatre feel like he was still dreaming as they walked through the fog that still clung to the ground.

Trowa nodded, sliding his hand around Quatre's side to walk with him down the street, "So, this is the temple... And for years we are not allowed in, and we train outside."

And in the distance, Quatre could hear the sounds of men. “HA!” floated through the air and Quatre thought he could hear the sounds of boots and staffs, but it could very well be his imagination.

"Are you allowed in now? Or... or is that why you got in trouble? And… do you need to be training too?"

"I am allowed in now. I’m a full-fledged guard. But I wasn't supposed to be in there then..." Trowa admitted, not wanting to say the last part out loud.

“I'm sorry I got you in trouble,” Quatre said, looking like he was taking that pretty personally. He didn’t want to make trouble for Trowa - his first real friend.

"You got me out of trouble, so... it's alright" Trowa smiled warmly, “And, yes, I should be there, but since I’m to escort you wherever you go, I can get away with it for now.”

Walking slowly down the path, Trowa pointed out trees and animals. He pointed out fairy circles and traces of gnome tracks. While Quatre was captivated, he also could tell that Trowa was distracted. Something was bothering him.

“Trowa? Want to tell me what’s wrong?” Quatre asked, rubbing his chest. “You seem … regretful.”

Trowa sighed and squeezed Quatre’s hand. "I can’t keep anything from you, can I?” He gave him a little smile, but then looked ahead to the path, averting his eyes from Quatre. “If I had been better able to stand up to the Elders, I would have asked to stay with you. But I'm not. They...don't much listen to me. You'd be better off with someone more powerful."

"... Assuming I'm the One?"

Trowa shrugged, "You are.” The way he said that, Quatre knew there was absolutely no doubt in his mind about Quatre’s status - it was his own that was on his mind, “And I'm not very powerful. I already told you how young I am by our standards. Someone more powerful could give you a better life than me," Trowa said softly as he walked him down a little trail that Quatre eventually recognized as a street. The houses were built into rocks (for small creatures) and boulders (for larger ones). Some were in trees and some cabins and houses, like in the city, but all were very nice. The further they got, the further away from each other houses became and the smaller they were. But despite the size, they were still very beautiful and well taken care of; they looked more lived-in than majestic.

Quatre thought about what Trowa had said as they walked. He couldn’t really enjoy the beauty of his surroundings when Trowa was feeling so down about himself. "What do you mean, you wouldn’t be able to give me a better life? I thought I'd be in the temple if I’m the one... and if that's the case, you wouldn't need to."

"...I...guess..." Trowa said, shrugging a little. "If you're the One, I suppose it wouldn't matter.”

Quatre didn’t see the need to address the ‘but’ that was obviously hanging there. Instead, he became distracted by movement not too far from them. A woman walked out of one of the houses a little further down the trail with a young elf girl beside her.

The woman stopped in her tracks, looking at them, then GRINNED, "TROWA!"

She hurried down the road towards them and hugged Trowa tightly when they met. Her reddish, curled hair matching Trowa's shade exactly. The other girl with her hung back nervously, watching the interactions.

Quatre stayed back too, wondering who the lady was.... and hoped that Trowa hadn't lied.

Trowa kissed her cheek, and then pulled away, looking her over. Quatre could see how happy they were to see each other, and he couldn’t help but feel a little jealous.

"Cathy?" Trowa said, motioning to Quatre, who continued his approach now that Trowa and the woman were looking at him. "This is Quatre."

The woman looked surprised, between the two, and then held her hand out. She shook Quatre’s hand, looking him over as if appraising him.

"Hello,” she began, a little frown starting to form, “You look like a human. Trowa!" She dropped Quatre’s hand and rounded on Trowa, hands on her hips. "You brought a human home again! Didn't you learn the first time?!" she scolded.

Ouch. Trowa visibly cringed at that, looking rather hurt.

“You don’t learn do you? Damn it, Trowa! Why do you have to do this to yourself?” The woman sighed, burying her face in one hand in exasperation.

Quatre could feel the hurt coming off Trowa, the annoyance and heartbreak from the woman, and curiosity shining from the little girl, but he couldn’t bring himself to say anything. What would he say? This was obviously a personal conversation.

"...Why is it wrong that he is a human?" a little voice asked. The girl stood there against a nearby tree, clutching a stuffed rabbit doll. "They are soul bound... can't you see it?"

But Trowa and Cathy weren’t paying attention.

Quatre blushed a little but smiled at the little girl, glad for the distraction, and held out his hand, "Hello there... I am Quatre... what might your name be?"

"Alaina" She said softly, holding the bunny tight but giving him her hand, "I'm Miss Cathy's friend...She makes me tea. She gets lonely when her brother is gone."

Quatre felt instant relief when the little girl gave him the peace of mind he needed. Trowa was that woman’s brother. "I'm sure you make a very good friend for her," Quatre smiled. "You ... you can see soul bonds?" He didn’t know whether or not to believe it; from what he’d learned, that talent was rare and to meet a little girl who claimed to have it seemed exceedingly fortuitous.

Alaina seemed rather sure of herself and nodded, "Oh yes! Well... I've not been tested..." She admitted quietly. "But I can still tell! I can see how close Trowa and Miss Cathy are. Their colors are the same-- do you see their colors? They’re related. And you, your colors are very bright. You're very strong. You and Mr. Trowa are linked, but it’s different than him and Miss Cathy. Don't you see it?" The girl looked to Cathy, sniffling a little, "Why does no one else see it?"

Quatre squeezed the little girl’s hand and gave her a smile, "I'm only human... but from what I understand... you have a rare gift. Do not be upset if we can't see it... it's what makes you special."

The little girl buried her face in her bunny as she took her hand back, but her eyes were smiling brightly, "You're the One, aren't you?" she asked with a smile, "You feel like the One."

"I don't know if I am yet…” Quatre admitted, and when she started to look upset, he quickly added, “Trowa thinks so though.”

That brought the smile back and then she launched herself at him, hugging him out of nowhere. She let go and held her bunny again, then turned to Cathy, "I got to hug the One!" she proclaimed proudly and loudly enough to get Trowa and Cathy’s attention before she darted off.

Trowa blinked after Alaina, rather stunned by the child. He’d even managed to forget the scolding he’d been receiving and began to snicker, "She's an interesting one…"

"Very interesting," Quatre agreed.

Cathy then turned to Trowa and smacked his arm, “Why didn’t you TELL me he was The One?! Honestly, Trowa!”

With the tension broken, Cathy apologized to Quatre for her behavior and led them up the trail to the house. Trowa held the door for Quatre as he let him into the house, blushing a little. It was just as beautiful as all the things Quatre had seen in the fey, but not extravagant like the palace. "This is... My home..." Trowa said softly, "and, my sister, Cathy."

Cathy perked up, now knowing that Quatre wasn’t just a stray human that Trowa had brought home. “You two go sit, I'll make some tea! And I bet Trowa's dying for some of my Briste!" She hummed, and set to work in the kitchen, leaving Trowa and Quatre to sit at the kitchen table.

"Sorry if all of that was a bit much. I meant to warn you; I didn't think she'd be up yet. And I don't really know the girl. I knew her when she was about 3 years old. She was always very odd, but seemed to adore being around me and Cathy."

"The little girl was sweet," Quatre smiled thinking about what she'd said. "Is she a seer?”

Trowa frowned. He hadn’t really paid attention to the girl - he was too busy being lectured by Cathy to notice until Alaina had loudly announced that she’d been able to hug Quatre. "A seer? I don't know. She's too young to be a seer... She’s only twenty or so and they don't test until at least 50 years old. Why do you think that?"

Quatre was taken aback by the fact that the girl was older than he was but decided to push that out of his head. Elves had different lifespans and he couldn’t really compare. He brought his thoughts back to Trowa’s question and then realized Trowa hadn’t overheard the conversation between himself and the little girl. "She says she can see bonds. She can see your and Cathy's colors... and that you and I are soul bonded."

A swell of excitement crashed into Trowa’s emotions and he looked awed, "Really?" he asked again to be sure, leaning in, "She said that? Do you- do you think it could be true?"

"I want it to be,” Quatre whispered. “I don’t know as much about all of this as elves, but I want to believe it." Truth be told, the idea that he _belonged_ with someone made him giddy. Having always felt like an outcast, it was a dream come true.

Trowa reached across the table and held his hand, "I want to believe it too." _But I’m afraid to,_ was the part that he’d left unsaid.

Quatre was about to say something, but when Cathy walked in, he shyly took his hand back and tried not to look like he’d been caught. She put down some tea and a warm slice of cake-like food before taking a seat, looking at Trowa and Quatre expectantly.

Trowa brightened when he saw that was on the plate and reached out, grin on his face. He broke some off with his finger, and gestured towards Quatre, "Try it, darling! It's the best."

Cathy busied herself by pouring the tea, but watched the blonde, waiting for Quatre's reaction.

Quatre looked curiously at the cake and imitated Trowa. The cake looked layered and when he tried to pinch some off, the way Trowa did, he was surprised at the somewhat crumbly texture as it easily broke away from the rest of the loaf. He studied the bit of dessert between his fingers for a moment before popping it in his mouth, eyes widening in surprise at how light and fluffy and flowery it tasted. "Mmmm... this is delicious!”

Trowa grinned, "It's my favorite. Cathy makes it best. The spice is from a weed only grown around here."

"I can see why it's your favorite!" Quatre smiled taking another piece and sitting closer to Trowa.

Cathy smiled happily and then realized she’d forgotten to bring out some napkins. While Trowa and Quatre ate and had their tea, she stood to go to the kitchen, then froze at what she saw outside. Without turning around, she called for her brother, "...Trowa... you DID tell the guards you were coming here with an important guest, didn't you?"

A loud knocking startled the three of them, making Quatre jump, "... We were supposed to tell them?" he asked getting up and dusting himself off, suddenly anxious.

Trowa stood and walked to the door, opening it. Heero was standing there, looking grim as always. He looked like he was about to give Trowa a verbal lashing when something caught his nose. He sniffed the air, eyes closing for a moment, then pushed Trowa aside a bit as he poked his head in, "Hey... is that Briste?"

"HEY QUATRE!!!" Duo's voice bounded from behind, poking around Heero, "I missed you! I figured you were out messing around with Tro-Tro. Heero, MOVE!" Duo huffed, shoving Heero out of the way to barge in and look around. Hey! These are some nice digs…”

"Hi Duo!” Quatre chirped, relieved that it was Heero and Duo to fetch them and not a hundred angry guards. “This is Miss Cathy, Trowa’s sister. She made the most amazing thing! You have to try some of this briste stuff... it is DELICIOUS!" he said, pointing to the pastry on the table.

Duo popped in further and pretty much invaded the house. He waved to Cathy and grabbed a chair, flipping it over to sit backwards on it, taking a piece. Heero laughed warmly, and Trowa moved out of the way, to let Heero into the house.

"Um... welcome. This is my, and my sisters, house..." Trowa said, looking uncomfortable at having so many uninvited people barging in.

Heero walked in and bowed to the lady of the house. “Miss Cathy, it’s nice to see you again.”

Cathy looked pleased to have SOMEONE with manners then hurried back into the kitchen to fuss and brought him a cup of tea.

"Are we in trouble for leaving?" Quatre asked, seeing Heero getting comfortable, taking the tea and breaking off a piece of the briste for himself.

Heero laughed, a nasally laugh, "No. A few guards got grumpy when you weren't to be found, but after last night, they figured you were with Trowa. They like to think of you as ‘The One who Runs’ now. It's your clever nick-name," Heero rolled his eyes, saying just how clever he thought that to be.

Duo snorted, "I'm the One who Talks, so don't feel bad, Buddy."

Quatre laughed a little, "It could be worse, I suppose... like 'The One who Cowers’ or ‘The one who Snores’."

Heero snorted at that, and tugged Duo's braid. Duo leaned in, and kissed Heero, grinning, "Not me, baby!"

Trowa smiled softly, flicking his eyes to Quatre, "I like the idea of you being a free spirit. Too many Equilibrium just stay in the temple and don't interact with others. It would be good for you to get out more."

"I've always wanted to see the world... I've been trapped at an Inn all my life... I want more," he admitted, taking another sip of his tea. It was pleasantly mild and had a hint of honey in it. He’d have to ask Miss Cathy what it was.

Trowa grinned, "We'll go, then. I'll bring you places. Is there anywhere you want to go?"

Quatre didn’t have the chance to reply. Instead, Duo spoke up, looking rather hopeful, "Hey! If I'm the One, can I stay at the temple and eat fancy food and get people to wait on me hand and foot?"

"I think that's a given," Quatre laughed, "Would I be allowed to wander if I'm the One?" he asked.

Both he and Duo looked at Heero expectantly. He was the one with the highest authority in the room and could presumably tell them more.

Heero didn’t disappoint. He only shrugged and took another bite of briste, "If you're the One, you can pretty much do whatever you want. And as your guard, it’ll be our task to adapt."

Quatre smiled brightly, "I've never been told I can do what I want."

Heero laughed, and snagged another slice of briste before Duo got it - the boy had been stuffing his face the entire time! - “And, until we figure out which one of you is our Equilibrium, you’ll both be treated as The One.”

Trowa pushed his chair a little closer to Quatre, and entwined their hands together, "I'll always let you do what you want," he said softly. He squeezed his hand a little and Quatre could feel how vulnerable Trowa felt just then. “No matter what,” he whispered. Quatre didn’t have to ask what that meant. Bounded or not, Equilibrium or human, Trowa had already given his heart to Quatre unconditionally. And it broke Quatre’s heart to know that the elf still had so many doubts, despite so many things to be positive about.

"You are very good to me," Quatre smiled, leaning his head on Trowa's shoulder.

Duo laughed, "I can't WAIT until you get a Seer to give you two the okay. You'll be at it like rabbits for weeks!”

"... I already have the okay," Quatre said softly, recalling his conversation with the little girl that morning.

Heero and Duo looked surprised, and Trowa blushed, "...A little girl... She might be a seer... She said we're soul bound...but she’s just a child.” He was trying his best not to get his hopes up. Even if she was a seer, or would grow to be one, there was room for error.

"I'm inclined to believe her," Quatre said confidently as he leaned in to kiss Trowa's cheek.

"Damn. Where’s the rug rat now?!” Duo asked, looking under the table.

“Gone now, sorry,” Cathy said, bringing out a second plate of briste, seeing as the first had been all but devoured.

“Cathy, lady, you’re a saint!” Duo chirped, grabbing a handful of the new pastry.  

“Boys,” she sighed good naturedly before leaving them to go tend to her chores for the morning. Those herbs weren’t going to pick themselves and if Trowa was back, she’d need plenty on hand to make him more of his favorite dessert! “Try not to leave too big of a mess, I’ll be outside in the garden,” she told the group, taking her leave.

“Nice lady,” Duo said. He was stuffing a bite into his mouth and decided it was as good a time as any to change the conversation, “So, Heero... What do you think the next challenge will be?" Duo asked.

“Yes... I want to hear about the next challenge too," Quatre said, perking up.

Heero hummed, nodding, "I believe we will need the seers and the Priestess. They will interview you, I believe. Ask you the most random questions. Like favorite colors and what would you do if this or that problem came up. I’m not exactly sure of anything else. The last one was confirmed before I was even born."

"I'm looking forward to it,” Quatre decided. “As much as I AM nervous, I’m looking forward to it all."

"And I'll be there," Trowa said softly, giving Quatre the reassurance he craved.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I made up "briste" since I thought it sounded pastry-like enough. Turns out, it's an actual word in a language I don't understand. Ha!


	12. An interview and Comeuppance

**Chapter 12**

 

The priestess lit some candles, slowly filling the dark room with light and a warm, heady scent.

Quatre sat still, watching her, wondering what would happen, what they would ask.

The smoke from the candles and incense mixed into the air, and she sat down with a smile. The room was mostly empty. It, like all of the others, was a room carved into the stone that served as the Temple of the Fey. The walls were polished white, with dark veining marbling the stone. There were four alcoves in the room that held the clusters of candles, and above them, the ceiling sparkled with countless crystals that shimmered in the candlelight. Quatre was seated on a pillow on the floor wearing a white tunic that he cinched at the waist with a cloth belt. On his wrists he still wore the vambraces that would not come off, but by then, he’d stopped really noticing that they were there. 

Between him and the priestess was a low table with tea set out for the both of them. As the priestess took her place, she motioned for Quatre to drink, lifting her own cup to her lips at the same time. 

“Well met, young one. I'm sorry that I had to say that Trowa could not come with us. You are very close to him,” she said as she put her cup down on the table. Quatre mirrored her movements. 

"I am, close to him, I mean,” Quatre said, his hands clenching in his lap to keep from fidgeting. “And he knows I have to do this alone. I know it too, though I admit to feeling safer and very secure when he's at my side."

"He's pacing in front of the door. I wonder... Can you feel him there?" She asked.

Quatre smiled a little, "I can."

"What color is he?" She asked, taking another sip from her cup. 

Quatre couldn’t help the blush that crept over his cheeks as he answered, "Green-gold... like his eyes." Clearly, he’d had too much time to study that particular aspect of his dear friend. 

"You can see that?” the woman asked in surprise. She put her finger to her lips in a pensive gesture as she hummed, “Hmm. Can you see the links? I have it from a reliable source that you and Trowa are linked. It's not verified by our Elder seers yet, but, as I said… my source is reliable."

"I'm afraid I can't see links... At least, I don't think I can. I'm not sure how to see them,” Quatre answered truthfully. He could feel connections, but he couldn’t  _ see _ them. 

She nodded at that, crossing off 'seer?' from her mental notepad and continued on, "It's beautiful here, isn't it? The animals and plants. Different from your home, yes?"

"Very different and remarkable," Quatre answered, sipping at his tea again. He didn’t know what was in it, but surely it contributed to making him feel so relaxed. 

"I love the animals especially. Sometimes you can hear them... rabbits looking for food, or the deer talking to each other about their mates. Have you ever heard that?" she queried, tilting her head a little, gauging the young man before her. 

"I can hear them,” Quatre responded hesitantly, “but to be honest, I feel them more than I can hear their thoughts."

She crossed off another item from her mental list and continued, "Feel them? How so?"

"Yes... I,” Quatre began, then licked his lips, pausing for a moment to collect his thoughts. How to describe it? “I can feel the presence of others but I really only  _ notice  _ it when I feel something  _ bad _ is going to happen. My sister hated it because it made me so odd, but  I can sometimes feel when something's going to happen - and it’s not always bad."

"Really?” the priestess asked. That confession certainly got her attention. “In dreams or visions?"

"I guess you can call them visions..."

"Tell me about them?" She asked, flicking her arm a little to disperse the candle smoke, it's truthfulness effect wafting through the air.

Quatre shrugged, "I haven't delved deeply into it, but I could feel when things were after us on the way over here. Or... when I was home, I could just tell when a bar fight was breaking out even though I wasn't inside. I could tell when my sister was pregnant before she did... Little things like that."

"...Would you describe it as something that... You can feel a little bit of everything? Or you have a talent with people only?"

Quatre bit his lip. This was getting a bit frustrating. He knew the questions were supposed to be hard, and that it was all a test, but talking about his ability was more difficult than he expected. "A little bit of everything... but my talent is strongest with people. Intent. I feel intent. Please understand that where I am from, being 'different' in any way is dangerous and taboo... I have done everything in my power to suppress my  _ quirks. _ I wish I could tell you more, but up until Trowa showed up at the inn and did something to ‘untangle’ my magic, I was nothing but a clutz and a menace. I’d drop things and trip over myself and it wasn’t until Trowa convinced me that I had magic and that I should come with him that I understood that I had gifts at all. Back then, I’d just  _ know _ things that I shouldn’t know," he huffed, his bangs blowing up over his forehead momentarily before falling back into place. “It is frustrating; I don’t even know how to answer any more.”

She nodded, and refilled his tea, "It’s all right. I can understand, have some more tea, dear. I’m just merely trying to understand -- tell me, what does the Fey 'feel' like to you? Are we a... Happy place, Sad? Warring with ourselves? Balanced?"

Quatre obediently took the tea and had a sip. Almost immediately, he could feel his frustration melting away. He closed his eyes and savored the honey flavor before remembering he’d been asked a question. He blinked hazy eyes open and thought for a moment, "There is something missing... and even though this place feels like it's complete now... there's something wrong. Something on the horizon... a dark cloud waiting to descend." He shook his head, as if clearing it of fog, then gave her a sheepish smile, “That probably sounded silly.”

The priestess reached into her robes and held out a crystal on a long silver chain. She held it in front of Quatre, letting it hang slowly... drifting back and forth and then slowly starting to circle, getting closer and closer to Quatre with each rotation. Every time it came close to Quatre, its faint glow would pulse.

Quatre smiled at the crystal, "That feels so warm... so nice. What is it?" he added curiously. 

She waited, but didn’t answer the question. She watched as the crystal pulled towards Quatre, starting to tug to get nearer to him. She pulled it away, though, putting it back in her robes, "After I speak with Duo, I might let you keep that crystal."

Quatre blushed, "Oh no! That's too kind, I couldn't accept!"

She smiled, "So humble. I rather like that about you. My favorite is you" she said, giving him a conspiratorial wink, as if he would know what that was supposed to mean.

Quatre blushed a little, but smiled, "If I may be honest, you remind me a lot of one of my sisters."

"I hope that is a good thing," she smiled, relaxing a little bit. 

"A very good thing... you sort of remind me of home," Quatre admitted, mirroring her relaxed posture. Was the interview over already?

She smiled kindly, "I am glad then. If you are the One, then you and I will be working closely together for the rest of our lives."

"And as I understand it... Elves live exceedingly long lives," Quatre hedged. 

She nodded, "We do. And if you are the one, your human life will be extended by some measure. And if you are GreenLeaf Trowa's Soul mate, you will live long too."

Quatre tilted his head a little, as he took a sip. GreenLeaf. Was that his rank? It didn’t seem to be a secret that he was very low on the latter. "He's a very young elf, isn't he?" Quatre mused. 

"For an elf? Yes. Barely a…" she searched her knowledge of human terms, "Young adult. Perhaps... 16 or so in your human years."

Quatre almost balked at that! In his terms, Trowa was younger than him? That hardly seemed possible. He coughed a little, trying not to choke on his tea, "He's still very worldly for an adolescent... "

"Humans die before they reach the maturity and experience of an adult elf, we live for hundreds of years. It's a different outlook. He was a good kid, and is a strong warrior, with a loyal heart."

Quatre nodded. While he couldn’t know the former, he could confirm the latter traits. “He's been very good to me so far. I feel very safe with him."

She smiled, "If you are the One, we will promote him through the guards-- for you."

That certainly got Quatre’s attention. Frowning, he set his tea down and looked at the priestess with a rather unreadable look. The high priestess had thought that Quatre would have been happy, but the look he was giving her said otherwise. 

"My lady,” Quatre began, “I'm not sure how much Trowa would appreciate that. I would like you to  ask him before moving him up. He might get upset that he's being promoted because of who I am instead of his own merit. Don’t stomp on a man’s pride."

That request gave her pause. She thought about it for a moment before speaking, "That may be so, but because of you, who I believe you to be, he will be asked to be part of things that someone of his rank would not otherwise be exposed to. He will gain experience quickly from just being at your side, and be promoted faster. As an example, to be allowed in your chambers at night, I will have promote him to at least a tower guard. You’ve made it quite evident that you won’t reconsider having him as your guard, and as the elders have decreed, you must be escorted at all times.”

“A tower guard,” Quatre considered, “Is that a big promotion?” He wanted Trowa to be able to stay with him in the evenings, but after the embarrassing scene last night, he wasn’t keen to have a repeat. He blushed knowing what people suspected of his and Trowa’s activities, and though he and Trowa had done nothing of the sort, Quatre would be lying to himself if he didn’t admit that he wanted to deepen their relationship to include more… intimate… encounters. 

“It is only one station higher that he is now,” the priestess assured him, patting him on the hand, “but he won't have to alert the entire guards when he sneaks off to meet you."

Quatre smiled a little, "I don't think he'll object to that too much. Especially if it is a promotion that will enable him to do his job and not get in trouble."

She smiled back, and shrugged, "No, I don't think he would either. Anyway, now, it is just you and I. I am done asking. If you have any questions for me, now is the time."

Quatre considered what he would say. He had so many questions about life in the fey, but he only had one that came to the forefront, "Can I stay with Trowa even if I'm not the One you're looking for? Can I stay in the Fey?”

"You have quite a bit of magic. You are something special. If you are not the One, you ARE something else. And if you are Trowa's soul mate - as I suspect you are - you would be welcomed here with us."

Quatre smiled brightly, "Thank you very much."

She smiled, "Is there much else you want? I believe your lover is getting rather impatient out there."

Quatre blushed at the word 'lover' but didn't try to correct her. "I don't think so,” he said, standing and giving her a little bow. “Thank you for your time. I'll see you at dinner, I hope?" he asked. She nodded and motioned towards the door, a clear sign that he was dismissed. He bid her a good afternoon then moved to the door to go meet Trowa and let Duo in.

Trowa slid his hands around Quatre immediately, his gestures were increasingly becoming more familiar and affectionate, yet Quatre was loathe to put a stop to them. "What did she say?" he asked, even as Duo walked into the room Quatre had vacated with a smile, "Hey! It smells good in here!"

Quatre hugged him tighter and kissed his cheek shyly, "She was very nice... and she said that even if I'm not the One... I can stay."

Trowa smiled brightly, "Did she? You can always stay with me, darling. I can... I can take care of you, even if you aren't the One. Maybe I can't take the best care, but I can..."

Quatre put a hand over Trowa’s mouth, stopping him from rambling. Quatre knew full well how Trowa felt about wanting to be with him. There was no need for Trowa to say the words. "I trust you,” Quatre smiled, a little mischief creeping in, “and... I have reason to believe you'll be promoted soon."

Trowa frowned, "Why? OH! Because I found you? Or helped find and bring home Duo, if they deem him to be the One. I- I suppose that would make sense." From the way his body tensed, Quatre knew he was struggling to accept the thought of a promotion without knowing the reason behind it. Most people wouldn’t have cared why a promotion was coming, so long as one did.

"... Does it matter?” Quatre asked curiously, “The next station would allow you to come into the temple at night to stay with me."

Trowa smiled warmly, holding Quatre's hand tightly, "They will talk to Duo for a while, right? Why don't we go take a drink at my place, or, in your room?"

"My room is closer..."

"Let's go, then" Trowa hummed, looking left, right, and the dashing up that way, laughing brightly as they ducked the guards to get there.

Quatre laughed brightly as he raced Trowa through the temple and up the tower to his chambers.

Trowa opened Quatre's door, letting him in, and then he went over to the bed with Quatre. He pushed Quatre down, and then climbed onto the bed. He pressed a soft kiss to Quatre's cheek... then to the edge of his mouth... then his lips

Quatre kissed him back, softly, gently, feeling his heart beating like a hummingbird trapped in his chest.

Trowa ran his hands through Quatre's hair gently and soft, panting gently, "Quatre..." he hummed, "I love your kisses."

"As I do yours... and I love how you make me feel; safe, warm, protected... cared for."

Trowa ran his fingers down Quatre's cheek with the back of his hands, "You're beautiful. I wish I knew for sure that you were my Soul Bound... Because I've already fallen hard for you. If we go any further and I’m not… it would break me."

Quatre reached out and caressed Trowa’s face gently. "I believe the little girl... and the priestess said that she had it from a trusted source, though unverified by a Seer that we were bonded. We're soul mates.. What more do you need? The Seers won’t tell us any different. I can feel it."

Trowa breathed slow and closed his eyes, "I... I can feel it too..."

"Then we are. We'll make it so. Trust me," Quatre whispered, brushing a thumb against Trowa’s bottom lip. 

Trowa leaned in and kissed him again. This time the kiss was hotter, hungrier. "I'll always be yours," he whispered when he broke the kiss.

"And I yours. We'll make it work,” Quatre promised, “No matter what happens."

Trowa was shaking gently in anticipation. He flicked his eyes towards the door, and magic lifted a chair, sliding it over, and pressing it up under the door handle, since Guards had the key into the room. Trowa turned back to Quatre, and slowly coaxed him to the bed, kissing him gently on the lips, taking things slow and letting Quatre lead them where he was comfortable.

Quatre sighed softly and kissed him deeply, as he relaxed into the plush blankets beneath him. "Mmm..." he shivered, hugging him tighter.

Trowa slid his body closer to Quatre, rolling his hips against him, "Mmm, Quat… Love you."

Quatre tensed when Towa spoke, his big blue eyes wide as he looked up at Trowa, "...What?" he panted. 

Confused, Trowa looked down at his pale charge and echoed the question, "...What?"

Quatre looked stunned, "You... love me?"

Trowa frowned, trying to follow why Quatre had tensed up beneath him. "... Yes...." Trowa whispered, sounding a little unsure now, "You- You have no problem accepting that we are soul mates but you question whether I love you?"

Quickly Quatre shook his head, "No! I… It’s just… no one has said that to me before..." he admitted.

Trowa looked sad for a moment, and ran his hands through Quatre's hair, "I do. I love you. Very much."

Quatre hugged him tight, burying his face against Trowa's shoulder, "I love you too." The admission was quiet, and mostly muffled, but being able to say it out loud made Quatre’s heart feel lighter than it ever had before. 

Trowa warped his arm around him, holding him tight, rocking him gently, "I'm so glad."

Quatre leaned in and kissed him, "I don't want to be separated from you"

"I- I won't let us be."

"We may not have a choice."

Trowa looked surprised, "What do you mean?"

Before Quatre could say anything, there was a loud knock at the door, making both of them jump. 

Scrambling off the bed, Quatre tried to fix his clothes so that he didn’t look so rumpled as Trowa strode across the room to glare at whomever was on the other side. 

What he saw, though, made him stop in his tracks. On the other side of the door was General Yuy and three more guards. Two wore standard White Leaf uniforms, but the third had attire that looked much more like Heero’s. The difference was that his cloak was dark brown and the leaf that held it pinned in place was an emerald green instead of silvery white like Heero’s. 

“What is going on?” Trowa asked, already tensing up for a fight. 

“GreenLeaf Barton,” Heero said, giving Trowa a frosty look. Quatre also noted that the voice he was using was not the one he used when they were relaxing in Trowa’s home only a few hours ago. “You have neglected your duties, were truant for your morning drills, and have broken protocol to spend the night inside the temple - a privilege not granted to your station. You are hereby under arrest. Your commanding officer, General Kurama will be taking you into custody. You will follow his second in command, Lieutenant Auda,” Heero said, nodding at the man with him. 

“B-but, he’s my escort!” Quatre yelped, protesting the arrest as the two White Leaves put stones on Trowa’s wrists. The stones grew vines out of them and wove themselves together to create a set of restraints that kept Trowa’s hands bound in front of him. 

Heero bowed, “He is, yes, and we apologize for this inconvenience. He will be returned to you once he has been disciplined for his misconduct. I’m very sorry,” Heero added. “It is out of my hands.”

Quatre’s hands clenched at his sides, but one look at Trowa and the way his head was bowed, Quatre knew it was better to let it happen than to argue. 

“Who will guard me, then?” he asked. 

“You will have two white leaves at your door. If you choose to go anywhere, they will escort you. Excuse us,” Heero said, letting Auda take Trowa’s arm, leading him away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry that it took me so long to get this part out. After I'd written it, I found myself with a giant writer's block, so I couldn't post this until I had a direction in which to take this. I was afraid of posting a chapter only to find that I'd painted myself into a corner without leaving myself a way out. 
> 
> I'm working on the next part, and am hoping it doesn't take me quite so long to get Chapter 13 up for y'all. 
> 
> Thank you for sticking with me!  
> Jess


	13. The Meditation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Trowa's punishment is decided and Quatre's next task is given.  
> (I'm crap at summaries)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to Shen Long for prodding me to get this written. I will be taking a trip for the next few days and I wanted to get this out before I did so. I am HOPING to have some time to type on my flights, but that may or may not happen. 
> 
> Enjoy!
> 
> As usual - not beta'ed and only proofed like once. Call me out if you see something glaring that I missed.

**Chapter 13**

  

Trowa had been led below the stone building that served as barracks and onward to the caves that served as detention cells. He wasn’t surprised that General Kurama had invoked disciplinary measures. In fact, he couldn’t blame the man.  

Since arriving, Trowa hadn’t even bothered to report to the general of the Green Leaf unit. Instead, he simply went to bed after dinner and then snuck out to be with Quatre. He hadn’t even reported to be given a schedule for rounds, let alone to be dismissed from that duty now that two claimants of the Equilibrium had been found. Damn it!  

It might not have been so bad if he’d at least reported first thing in the morning, but what did he do? He took Quatre out of the temple proper and had a bit of an excursion into the residential side of the forest, without telling anyone, _and_ they were out long enough that someone had to go looking for them.  

He could have reported when they’d made it back too, while Quatre had his interview. It wasn’t like he was doing anything other than pacing the hall outside the sanctum where Quatre was. But did he do that? No. He’d stubbornly paced, ignoring the fact that he’d had other responsibilities. General Kurama had given him a full twenty four hours, and yet Trowa had failed to check in. He’d brought this on himself, and because of his irresponsibility, he was leaving Quatre without an escort. He didn’t want to think about how much the blond would worry.  

Trowa didn’t fight as he was marched into a cell and had his restraints removed. Once the barred door was closed behind him, he heard footsteps approaching and turned to face the newcomer.  

“GreenLeaf Trowa Barton,” the man said. “I’m sorry I had to do this, but you left me little choice.”  

Trowa nodded and stood at attention, ready to accept his punishment.  

The man before him cleared his throat. He was tall. Much taller than Trowa and about three times as wide. Trowa often wondered if General Kurama was part giant or part troll, but he wasn’t stupid enough to ask. He had dark tanned skin and a thick head of hair that matched his equally thick beard. He wore an embellished version of the GreenLeaf uniform, brown boots and loose linen breeches, a green linen shirt with a wide belt around his waist and a brown cloak clasped with an emerald leaf. He made an imposing figure - exactly what was needed to instill order in the new recruits and lower guardsmen. No one was promoted out of the GreenLeafs without General Kurama’s say so, and rumor had it, he’d even trained General Yuy when he was only a sapling. Again, this was another rumor Trowa had no interest in asking about. He valued his hide a little more than that.  

“You are to be disciplined on multiple counts, young guardsman. First, for your failure to report to your station upon return to the Fey, you shall endure three back-to-back runs of the training course.  Secondly, for breaking into the temple, you shall be incarcerated for two days during which time you will fast to give you time to reflect upon your actions.” General Kurama paused, looking at Trowa, who only nodded silently.  

“And finally, for abducting the Equilibrium Claimant, you will endure ten lashes.”  

Trowa closed his eyes, wincing at the pronouncement. He nodded a little, accepting his fate.  

“I suggest you meditate,” General Kurama said, producing an hourglass from his pocket and hung it by Trowa’s cell. “You will be released when the sand runs out. In the morning, someone will be by to take you to the training grounds. Do you have any questions?” 

“When will the other punishment occur?” he asked. He didn’t have to mention which. He wanted to make sure he was mentally prepared for it. He’d endured a few lashes over the years, but never ten. Not all at once. He was not looking forward to it. But this was discipline; not torture. He knew that the lashes would not cause serious harm, but they’d still be extremely painful.  

With baited breath, he waited for his answer. 

“At sundown tomorrow,” General Kurama said, not one to mince words. “You will be released from your confinement at about this time the following day,” he added, leaving him be.  

A few minutes later, a pitcher of water and a small bit of fortified bread were given to him. He knew he would be allowed water during his fast, but the bread was a surprise. Then again, he figured it was a bit of a precaution so that he could get through the three runs through the training grounds the next day. He wasn’t exactly hungry right then so he pocketed the bit of bread. He’d need the energy the next day, so he didn’t want to risk it getting taken away.  

Taking a seat on the small cot in the cell, he sighed, putting his head in his hands. “I’m sorry, Quatre.”  

~~ 

Back in his room, Quatre curled up on the massive pillows that had been arranged against a half-circle of stone that faced the fireplace. He felt so alone right then.  

Granted, the two guards by the door were there to make him feel safe, but since he’d left his home, he’d had Trowa at his side every step of the way. And now, he had no idea when Trowa would be back. _If_ he’d be back.  

Quatre shook his head to dispel those thoughts. Of course he’d be back. The Elders had said that he would be Quatre’s guardian. The question was, _when_? He curled up tighter as he watched the dancing flames in the fireplace. They were mesmerizing. 

Unconsciously, Quatre’s hand went to the gold-tinged acorn he still wore at the hollow of his throat and felt it grow warm under his fingertips. He could feel Trowa. He knew the man was alone and unharmed, which made him feel better, but he still missed him. He did take comfort in feeling Trowa’s magic so close to him. He hadn’t realized how much he’d come to depend on the tall elf until he was no longer at his side. He took a moment to be grateful for the token Trowa had given him; Trowa wasn’t too far away and his magic kept him close to Quatre’s heart. It was… reassuring. It helped him feel _grounded_ and he liked it.  

He was fingering the acorn in its vine basket when he started to see figures in the flames dancing in the hearth. Weaving through the burning bits of wood and coal was a dragon - elegant and fierce. As Quatre watched, he was pulled into the vision. Suddenly, the little dragon was no longer flying around a bit of wood; It was flying around a mountain, but more specifically, around a castle etched into it.  

There were dark clouds forming above the mountain castle and the sounds of cannon fire echoed in Quatre’s head as the little men made of flames tried to shoot the dragon down. Arrows made of flaming splinters and cannonballs made of ember attempted to hit the lithe little dragon and eventually, one of the projectiles hit its target and the dragon was felled.  

Darkness spread across the land, threatening to snuff out any and all light, but then something happened… there was a glimmer from the darkness and the soot began to roll back. The dragon took to the skies again and -  

There was a knock on the door, making Quatre jump.  

“C-come in,” he called out, getting to his feet.  

The door opened and the priestess came in, giving Quatre a little bow, “My Lord, it is time for dinner,” she said. Quatre found it curious that she would come fetch him herself.  

“Thank you,” Quatre said softly, “But I’m not very hungry. May I be excused?” 

“Does this have to do with your GreenLeaf?” she asked, raising an eyebrow.  

Quatre nodded, “I’m afraid so. It is my fault that he’s being punished. I don’t feel right being waited on hand and foot when he’s being disciplined. And really, I have no appetite at the moment.”  

She nodded a little, “Very well. If it is your wish to stay here, we shall respect it. Dinner will be brought up for you within the hour in case you change your mind.”  

Quatre gave her a heartfelt thank you and looked back at the flames once she’d left. Unfortunately, he couldn’t see how the story ended.  

Sighing a bit, Quatre left the fireplace and decided a bath was in order. He’d discovered it a while ago and a servant-type elf had shown him how to use it. Honestly, he could use the cleansing, both physically and mentally. And maybe, if he was lucky, he’d see his favorite elf in his dreams.  

~~ 

The night was spent restlessly tossing and turning. Quatre could hardly get an hour’s sleep at a time. He didn’t remember what his dreams were about, but he came to the conclusion that being away from Trowa didn’t help matters.  

Once in the night, he thought he saw a gold-green glow around his bed, but his sleep-deprived eyes were too heavy to keep open. He fell back to sleep quickly, but rest would continue to evade him.  

When morning came, he felt a little disoriented, and idly, he felt around his his throat for his acorn. It was still there.  

He got up, was escorted down for breakfast, and given his task for the day. He and Duo were to sit in one of the gardens, in the center of a fairy ring - that is, in the center of a ring of stones - and meditate. Quatre had never done anything like that, but it was supposed to show them how to ground their energies.  

Duo was not pleased at the prospect of having to sit still for an inordinate amount of time, but after Heero gave him a look, Duo just huffed, “Fine! I’ll do it!” and proceeded to eat his weight in breakfast pastries.  

After breakfast, Quatre and Duo were led to a garden where the circles had been set up, and, Quatre couldn’t help but notice that they’d been set up at a distance from each other. Duo was led to one circle and Quatre to another. Each was bid to sit in the center and each was given a cup of tea to help them relax their energies. Just in front of where each was seated, a large crystal had been placed.  

“The crystals are there to help channel your energy,” a female elf said. She had short dark hair and sparkling blue eyes.  

“And what am I meant to do?” Quatre asked, getting comfortable, sipping his tea.  

“Well, this is an exercise in focus. The idea is to charge the crystal with your magical energy. You’re supposed to concentrate on your power and then infuse the crystal. There’s no right or wrong way, every elf has their own way of doing it… it’s all about how your magic takes root.” 

“NOIN!” an older elf snapped. He was dressed in the same garb that most of the temple acolytes wore, and gave the young elf a hard look. “You are not to speak to the claimants. You’re just here to take his cup when he’s done!” 

Noin flushed to the tips of her pointed ears and bowed her head.  

Quatre wanted to say it was quite alright, but he didn’t get the opportunity to. One of the elders he’d seen before came out and gave both Quatre and Duo instructions, then they were both left alone in the shaded garden.  

Quatre closed his eyes and tried to concentrate. He could hear birds in the trees, the soft breeze in the grass and leaves, and he could hear the rustle of fabric not too far from him. The latter had to be Duo.  

At first, he thought this meditation thing to be silly, but he’d traveled this far, and he’d come to accept that he was at least a mage. He had to at least TRY, right? He had to give this Equilibrium thing a real chance, as unlikely as it was for him to be the chosen one.  

He could feel the vambraces at his wrists hum with energy and he could feel the acorn at his throat pulse slightly. Opening his eyes, he focused on the crystal. It wasn’t a huge one, but it was sizable. It looked like it would fit in his hand, so he reached out for it and held it cupped in his palms.  

Breathing deeply, he tried to direct his energy, but… he was distracted. Trowa was being held somewhere and possibly being punished. He couldn’t get his mind off Trowa, and though his crystal began to glow in his hands, his physical eyes were unfocused, while his mind’s eye sought out his elf.  

~~~~ 

Trowa was woken up very early, before the sun had even risen, to take part in the group training that morning. It was difficult, but not something he was unaccustomed to doing. The morning training lasted an hour, but instead of heading to breakfast with the others, a pair of guards came to fetch him to take him to the training course.  

The training course was designed to take about an hour to complete for a new cadet, and the more experienced ones could get through it in three quarters of the time. Trowa, however, was required to do three runs, back-to-back. He was not looking forward to it.  

There was a group of Greenleaf Saplings waiting to start the course and pride made Trowa want to show off and teach the saplings how to get through it. He’d done it many times, but he’d never done it while fasting and he’d never done it multiple times in one day.  

The first part of the course involved a short run before coming upon a series of fallen logs that came up to about his chest that he had to climb over. Having gone through the morning fight forms, his muscles were limber, but he knew his strength would be sapped by the end of the first run. Still, the faster he got through this, the sooner he could recover, and he knew that if he took longer than the hour to get through the first set, people would question his ability to be Quatre’s protector.  

That thought alone had him vaulting over the logs.  

The next obstacle was a net made of rope that stretched over a small body of water. His task was to climb sideways while fighting the push and pull from other participants on the net. At first it wasn’t so bad, since he was one of the first to that net, but halfway through, as Saplings began to get on, he had to really work to not lose his balance.  

After that, he got to an obstacle called ‘sea of ropes.’ The frame had been made of wood and there were ropes hanging off of it. The idea was to get from one side of the rig to the other, using only the ropes, without touching the ground. If you slipped, the spotters would make you start the course again. Trowa, thankfully, had above average upper body strength. That’s why he was so well-suited to be an archer.  

By this point, Trowa was starting to feel a little winded, and groaned at what came next. It was called the ‘gut buster’ and it was essentially two long parallel bars, mounted on posts. To get across, Trowa had to stretch across two bars, his feet on one, his hands on the other, stretched a bit over his head. His body made a bit of an arch, looking like a bridge, and in that position, he had to inch his hands and feet sideways to make his way to the other side.  

By the time he was done with that, his sides and shoulders started to burn in exertion.  

The next bit involved swinging on a rope over thirty feet, and letting go to latch onto an inverted cargo net. From there, he had to climb up the net, over to the top, and get to the platform that awaited him there where he had to walk another twenty feet on a thin plank, testing his balance.  

From there, he had to jump off a platform, landing on an air-filled giant balloon. That was the easy part. Most of the saplings were afraid of heights, but this part was actually Trowa’s favorite.  

The Spider Wall was next. Basically, the obstacle consisted of two large pillars of smooth stone set side by side. The object of this one was to wedge one’s body between the two pillars and make one’s way to the top, using hands and feet to brace oneself. At the very top, there was a platform where Trowa took a minute to catch his breath. The others were way behind at this point, so he didn’t mind taking a few minutes before jumping into the next part - the treetops.  

There wasn’t much to this obstacle either, but Trowa had to jump from one platform mounted on a tree to the next, eventually getting back down to solid ground. Once that was done, he was only a small sprint from hitting the finish line.  

One round done - two to go.  

~~~ 

Back in the garden, Quatre found that he was having a hard time concentrating on the crystal in front of him. He couldn’t get his mind off Trowa.  

He felt the energy flow through him, around him, wrapping him up in what felt like warm, soft cotton, and, to his surprise… it was comforting. It didn’t feel like the alien thing he knew it to be. It didn’t feel wrong, the way he’d been taught magic would be. It felt like it was a part of him… and he felt something else. A pull.  

In his hands, his crystal glowed, making elf acolytes, guards, and elders stop and stare. He looked serene, encased in a gold orb that floated a few inches off the ground. Inside the orb, it appeared as though there was a small breeze, if his fluttering bangs were any indication, and his very skin took on a glow that indicated a level of power that few possessed.  

His crystal pulsed brightly, and on the other side of the garden, where Duo had been struggling to infuse his crystal, something strange happened. A violet column of energy appeared within his fairy circle, and his eyes glowed in a deeper hue of the same magical energy. In his hands, his crystal turned black – darker than onyx – and began to grow.  

  

At the training grounds, where Heero was sparring with other high-ranked guards, he nearly blew the three of them away with the sheer influx of power. He hadn’t been using Wing – it was safely sheathed at his side – but the blade still created a blinding glow, and his physical attacks were turned up to a level he’d never had before. He felt light as a feather and his punch made a man fly clear across the yard.  

  

On the training course, Trowa FLEW through the obstacles, hardly needing respite as he finished the second set and the third. He was nearly finished with a fourth when General Kurama came out. He’d been told that Trowa was getting through the obstacles much too easily, and he had to see it for himself.  

He didn’t say a word as Trowa finished the fourth set and started again. He finished this round in just under twenty minutes. He was getting faster each time, and hadn’t even noticed that all the other elves had stopped to watch him go.  

“BARTON!” General Kurama barked, making Trowa stop on one of the platforms. “Get your tail down here immediately.”  

Trowa complied, but instead of climbing down, he took a leap, spun in the air, then did a flip before landing on his feet.  

General Kurama glared at him and smacked him on the back of the head. “For being a bloody show off,” he growled. “This is meant to be discipline, not a holiday! Get your sorry self back into your cell and meditate. Someone will fetch you for the last part of your discipline. Until then, think about what the hell just happened because I’m going to want an explanation.  

“Sir?” Trowa asked, rubbing the back of his head, looking perplexed. “Explanation of what?” 

“How you got through that course nearly five times before I stopped you.” 

~~ 

All around the temple, the elves, particularly those charged with protecting the Equilibrium began experiencing surges in their power, but none as blatantly as Trowa or Duo or Heero had. For most, it was almost like a breath of fresh air, or as if they’d had a particularly energizing cup of tea. Some of the sapling cadets shone brightly during their training that morning – something that the instructors took note of – and others did not.  

Some of the acolytes meditating elsewhere in the temple got flashes of premonitions, while others found particular clarity in the project they were currently working on.  

Even the priestess was affected, though she was nowhere near the meditation garden. She had a vision of dragons; a race with whom the elves rarely interacted with.  

~~ 

Far, far from the heart of the Fey, and the temple itself, a Dragon gasped as he lay on his deathbed, the others around him already beginning their mourning. He’d been dragged from the battlefield, the damage to their castle already done. The dragons, what was left of them, had been driven out of their home – a castle etched into a mountain, which had been formed of lava rock and obsidian and was riddled with caves that led to caverns.  

The castle belonged to the royal dragons, but they were all dead now – all except for a minor dragon prince, who had been so far removed from the king’s station that he had chosen to train as a warrior in addition to his scholarly duties. He had thought he’d never live to see the inner circle of dragons as they conferred, let alone be part of them – unless he was one of the dragon guards that kept them safe.  

But now, they were gone.  

He’d fought as hard as he could, and they managed to seal off the caves from the castle, keeping the intruders from invading the rest of the dragons’ home, but now he was injured. Gravely injured.  

Even despite the red and gold iron scales that formed on his skin as armor had not stopped the cursed blades from cutting at him. Even after taking reptilian form, a form that some dragon-borne never mastered, he had been no match for the arrows and cannons that had been hurled at him. He was too young. He wasn’t strong enough. He couldn’t protect his home! 

He had a bitter taste in his mouth, and suddenly he realized his head was being held up and he was being fed a vile-tasting tea. 

“Shh…” the shadowed figure above him whispered. “You’re safe now, Lord Chang. You … you were gone … we thought,” the voice became choked and another took its place.  

“My lord,” a rather somber voice said from the shadows. “Your injuries are severe. We had lost you, but you’ve returned to us. There is something at work which we cannot explain, but you’re back with us, and you are no longer bleeding. Sleep, my lord. You need your strength…” 

Wufei felt his head swimming, and though he was in pain, he could, at least, breathe.  

Beside him, lay what was left of the spear that had pierced is heart and felled him, but he was too tired to see it.  

As his eyelids grew heavy, he caught an image of a golden glowing young man before succumbing to the painlessness of sleep.  

~~ 

“My lord.”  

The world was huge… so much bigger than Quatre had given it credit for. So large and full of life. So many colors. 

“Sir.” 

Each person was a flickering light. Some bright, some shadowed, some vibrant, some subdued, but all were beautiful.  

Several glowed brighter than the rest, and a few were brighter still. If he could just reach out them…  

“Please, m’lord, open your eyes,” a voice said, bringing Quatre out of his musings and his walk in the lights. He’d touched some of them. He touched the brightest, and some that were less bright. One was very far away, and though it was dazzling, it was also quickly extinguishing. Frowning, Quatre made his way through hundreds of little lights to cup that one in his hands. The flickering steadied and began to smolder, like an ember – one that Quatre was confident wouldn’t go out.  

He let it go after it was steady and smiled when it seemed to grow a little – it wasn’t as big as he’d first seen it, but it was in no danger of being snuffed out now.  

A handful of orange and yellow and blue flames seemed drawn toward it after Quatre put it back, making Quatre smile. It was as if the little ones were tending to the big one. Who knew lights could be so endearing? 

Quatre looked around and realized that his little world of lights was starting to dim and he became aware of people around him. Half a dozen, at least, all holding their hands toward him.  

Taking a breath, Quatre exhaled deeply and opened his physical eyes. Around him and the fairy circle were a dozen white cloaks, each with a hand pressed up against an invisible barrier that seemed to surround him, and the other planted on the ground.  

The barrier around him slowly began to fade and the garden began to flourish.  

All around him, the men looked both strained and a little drunk, and even Heero was there, with the rest of them. He’d seen Trowa do this before. Channeling.  

Blinking rapidly, he shook his head and looked down at his hands. The smallish palm-sized crystal that had been there was now large and had grown to fill the entire fairy circle, leaving a smooth surface at the center, where he was currently seated. It looked like a giant flower, once he stepped off of it and looked back. As the pulsing light it emitted faded, thousands of twinkling lights could be seen floating around inside it.  

Everyone, including Duo, was stunned. But, it was Duo that broke the silence and came up to him, clapping his hand on Quatre’s shoulder.  

“DUDE. _THAT_ is impressive. And here I was, going to show you what _I_ had done,” he said, holding out a large clump of black crystal. It was dark and jagged, and though the elves were afraid to touch it, Quatre smiled brightly and took it in his hands.  

“This is beautiful,” he smiled, looking it over, feeling the magic it held. “And just what I would have expected from someone like you.” 

“What do you mean?” Duo asked, scratching the back of his head. “It’s just a crystal.”  

“It’s more than that,” Quatre smiled. “It’s a protection. It will ward off psychic attacks and can be used to cut though some strong magic.” 

“That,” the priestess said, “Is an exorcism crystal.”  

All around them, excited murmurs erupted, and Quatre could practically feel the news spreading like wildfire.  

“Uh… okay…” Duo said, taking his crystal back. “That sounds cool and all, but why are they all spazzing out?” he asked, indicating the gossiping acolytes.  

She gave him an incredulous look, “We haven’t been able to produce one of those in recent memory… and our memories are _quite_ long,” she informed Duo. “There are remnants of the last exorcism crystal still around, mostly embedded in ceremonial tools, but they don’t have nearly as much concentrated power as this. I’m not even holding it and I can feel its power from here. We would be honored if you allowed our gem smiths to cut it.”  

Duo looked surprised, and very, very pleased.  

“As for you,” the priestess said, looking at Quatre’s crystal, “I… don’t even know where to begin. I… honestly don’t know what to make of it. I’ve never seen a crystal grow so large during a meditation, and I have no idea what the magic emanating from it is. I-I’m afraid… this test is inconclusive at this point. The elders will need more time to examine your crystals, and perhaps devise another test. I’m sorry, boys.”  

Quatre and Duo looked at each other and smiled.  

“Do you mind if we go find something to eat? Can we walk around? Quat and I have been at this for hours and I’m starving,” Duo piped up.  

“I will accompany them,” Heero said, coming up behind the two.  

The priestess nodded accepted Duo’s crystal before she let them go while the temple elves examined both Quatre and Duo’s results. She had become aware that the equilibrium’s power had caused magical abilities to fluctuate, and while she suspected that Quatre was the one they were looking for, the fact that Duo had created such a large and concentrated exorcism stone couldn’t be discounted. For all she knew, Duo had cleansed the inhabitants of the temple, causing the magical surges, and it could very well be his influence that tapped whatever power was dormant in Quatre.  

For now, she had little choice but to observe them further. The two seemed inexplicably tied together. Like they were two halves of a whole – a light and a dark of the same coin. But which was the equilibrium? Could they have two instead of just one? 

  

  

 


	14. Discipline and Distraction

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Getting this up before I procrastinate. 
> 
> Not beta'ed, and only proofed like once or so. I know, I'm bad. I just want to get this out there, okay? 
> 
> This felt a little short, but I'll work to make it up next time. Thank you to everyone who's read and reviewed and sent me Kudos along the way. I love you! 
> 
> And an extra special thank you to ShenLong for prodding me.

* * *

 

**Chapter 14**

 

Quatre followed Duo and Heero out of the garden and into the main temple. Having not gone for breakfast or dinner the day before, he was unfamiliar with the location of the dining room in relation to his room, let alone the garden. He relied on Heero and Duo to lead the way.  

  

He was exhausted. Sure, he must have spent a lot of energy making that… whatever it was… but now that he was outside the fairy circle and now that he wasn’t grounded to a crystal, he started to feel a bit lethargic. It was almost as if he’d been running and running and running for ages. His muscles ached and his whole body felt sore. Whatever he’d done must have taken a lot more out of him than he expected.  

  

"So Quat," Duo began, breaking the ice as they each took a seat at the table. "How did your interview thing go yesterday?" They hadn't even finished settling in when an elf came by, placing bowls of stew and mugs of ale in front of them.   

  

Quatre shrugged, taking a roll from the basket at the center of the table and broke it, stuffing half of it in his mouth, taking the time to eat it before answering, "She asked me all sorts of questions. Some of them seemed important, but others… I don’t know. It seems like this whole process is kind of subjective. Like they don't have a set of things they're looking for. Did you get that impression?"  

  

Why was he starving? He ate the hearty stew rather quickly and thanked the servant elf that brought him a replacement before starting in on the second bowl at a more sedate pace.  

  

Duo snorted, both amused at how hungry Quatre was and at his observation that the elves seemed to be doing a lot of trial and error with them.  "Sort of. If you ask me, all these elves are rather uptight."   

  

At that, Heero snorted, but gave Duo a little glare.   

  

"What? You are!" Duo retorted unapologetically.  “There’s so many rules and that Priestess chick is always looking at me like I’m going to break or steal something!” 

  

"How was your interview?" Quatre asked, both interrupting what would turn into a spat and directing the conversation elsewhere. He wanted  _some_  distraction. Now that he didn’t feel like his stomach was eating itself and the aches in his body had virtually disappeared, he was starting to think about Trowa and how he was being punished and it was starting to give him a sour stomach… which was unfortunate, because the food was SO good here! 

  

"Well… Lady M asked me questions about my family," Duo said pensively, dipping his dinner roll in his stew.  

  

"You don't seem too happy about that," Quatre observed.   

  

"It's just that… well… I never met 'em. I grew up in a boys' home before it burned down and I've been on my own ever since," Duo shrugged. "I can read people and I can tell you if someone is gonna die, or if they're a bad person. There's lots of things I can sort of sense. It really gives people the creeps if I talk about it. You sure you wanna know?"   

  

"Honestly, I'm intensely curious," Quatre said, enjoying his meal. Was he on his third bowl now? It was hard to keep track. When Duo wasn’t immediately forthcoming, Quatre got the impression that he wouldn’t talk about it unless Quatre offered him something in return, so he did. "I grew up hearing about how magic was bad, how people that used it were wicked, and how those touched by it were cursed. I didn't even know  _I_  had magic until Trowa came to our inn. Up until that point, it was thought that I was cursed, or at least jinxed. I couldn't do anything right!"  

  

Duo laughed, "What are you talking about? You're about the most graceful person I've ever met."   

  

Quatre nearly choked on his ale upon hearing that, his reaction making even Heero quirk an eyebrow.   

  

"What's so funny?" Duo demanded, a smile already tugging at his lips, eager to be in on the joke.   

  

"I was the clumsiest person in town! I'd trip over my own feet, spill things - nothing was safe. I stubbed my toe or hit my shin nearly every morning, and if I didn't, I'd bump my head. I wasn't allowed in the kitchen, and certainly not allowed around the chicken coop for fear I'd break the eggs. I was a right MESS!" he said, smiling a little. Now that he wasn't a walking disaster area, it was rather comical to think about.   

  

"I was so clumsy that I wasn't to touch any of the food trays, though I did bus the tables. We stopped using clay dishes because of me and sometimes even the wooden ones would meet a tragic end. I wish I were exaggerating," he added mournfully, remembering how his sister would either yell at him for not paying attention or give him that long-suffering look, which Quatre knew to mean he was testing her nerve.  

  

Duo's eyes widened more and more as Quatre told him about himself, and even Heero had what passed for a smile on his face.   

  

"You're kidding!" Duo guffawed. "What happened? Did Trowa come in and lift the curse? Did you get a kiss to break it? Spill!"  

  

Quatre laughed brightly and continued his story, "There was no curse. Trowa came in and seemed to know I was  _different_  right away. He did something that untangled my magic; said it had been bound very tightly. Tightly enough that it was physically affecting me. I think I hurt him, or almost did, in the process. At any rate, after that, he refused to leave without me."   

  

"And your family let you go?" Heero asked, interested.   

  

"They… like the rest of the town, all feared magic. They tried to hide that I was odd, but the moment Trowa did what he did, things started to happen. My room caught fire, people were frightened…" at that point, Quatre remembered how he'd felt when his family had asked him to leave. It was painful and it was curious that he had stopped thinking about it.  

  

"And then what happened?" Duo inquired, looking riveted.   

  

"I… I was asked to leave. I wasn't exactly given much time to do so either. I could tell they feared me. My own family fears and hates me… I don't think I could ever go back," he said softly.   

  

The thoughts were painful and having dredged up the memories, he wasn't sure he could put them away again. At least, that’s what he’d thought, and then the pain was gone and Duo's hand was on his shoulder.   

  

"Hey buddy. Don't be so sad. As far as I'm concerned,  _we_  are your family now." The words made Quatre feel better, and oddly enough, he felt the negative emotions building inside him slowly vanished. It was almost as if someone was cleansing them. "I always wanted a little brother," Duo grinned, “Think you’re up for the job?” 

  

The smile Quatre gave Duo then was nothing if not brilliant. He'd had a large family, but he didn't have any brothers. Without another word, Quatre gave Duo a big hug before sheepishly pulling away. "Yeah. I'd like a brother. I don't mind you being the big one," he said, trying not to laugh when he felt a lash of jealousy from Heero. "And now that we're brothers, you have to tell me what you just did to me."  

  

"He purified you," Heero interjected, before Duo could deny having done anything at all. Quatre got the impression that he was trying to make his presence known.   

  

"Oh. How does that work?" Quatre asked curiously, looking at Duo. Duo, however, made a face that implied he had no clue. 

  

"Like that exorcism crystal, Duo banishes negative energy. I'm guessing that talking about your family brought up some negative emotions and Duo did what he naturally does - he purifies magic. He's basically a walking exorcism crystal," Heero explained as he sopped up the last of his stew with his dinner roll.  

  

"Yeah, whatever," Duo said, shrugging, looking a bit embarrassed, then quickly changed the subject. "So anyway, they can't seem to figure out which one of us they're looking for, meaning they'll give us yet another task. Heero? You know what they'll ask of us next?"  

  

Heero shook his head, "I haven't a clue. And even if I did, I wouldn't be allowed to talk about it much, so I'm no help."  

  

They continued to talk for a while before Duo demanded Heero give them all the grand tour, if nothing else, it would distract Quatre from the fact that Trowa still wasn't with him. And, unable to deny Duo much, Heero complied.   

  

~~  

In the council chambers, the elders had all been gathered. Though two were still away, the other five were in attendance.  The room was dark and only a few floating candle orbs illuminated the room. The chamber was always dark – the elders were advanced in age and the light sometimes bothered their eyes. Incense wafted in the air, it was said to help settle nerves and promote open communication. It was uncertain if the incense ever worked, but with a room full of opinionated elves, every little bit helped.  

  

"Why have we been summoned?" one, a female named Sarina, asked.  She wore browns and blacks, with a head covering that matched and carried a staff. She carried herself with grace that only came with old age.  

  

"There was a messenger sent from Dragon Mountain," Another answered. He was dressed in black pants and a red tunic with fur on the collar of his short cape. His name was Ikor and he kept track of potential dangers to the Fey and the Kin.   

  

"What do we care about the dragons?" she asked haughtily. "They stay at their mountain and we stay in our forest. What could they possibly want?"  

  

"They have been attacked. Mages - Dark Magi," the Ikor said, gravely.   

  

The silence that permeated the room was deafening. For a moment, the elders did little more than sit in stunned silence, and then came the questions. One after another, they demanded more details, but the raven that had delivered the message had only the one strip of parchment. There were no more answers to give.   

  

Immediately, the elders sent word to their seers and scryers. If there was any more information that could be gleaned, they wanted it.   

  

Had the dragons been entirely wiped out? What had happened to the magi? Were there casualties? How many? Was this a threat to the Fey at large? The Elves?  

  

~~  

  

In his cell, Trowa sat in meditation. He had been thinking about whatever power had possessed him earlier that day to go through that obstacle course, not only multiple times, but with the energy he'd had. By the time he'd been taken back to his cell, he was hardly tired, which was unheard of, given the level of difficulty.   

  

He'd been exhausted after only just the one run, but something had happened between then and the second that he lost his fatigue to the point where he hadn't even realized that he'd done more than had been asked of him.   

  

He sat still, grounding himself. This had to be like that time where Quatre's magic had helped him before. It had happened twice before, perhaps three. Once with the glamour, once with the trolls, and once more with his arrows. But this time, Quatre was nowhere near him. How could he possibly know that Trowa needed help?  

  

He'd been in meditation for a very long time, it seemed, because the next thing Trowa knew, his cell was being opened and he was asked to stand.   

  

"Remove your shirt," one of the guards said, looking rather stoic. Trowa had no reason not to comply.   

  

He followed the two guards through the tunnels and into the training courtyard where he was taken to a platform with a frame built over it. This is where some of the men did pull up drills but at the moment, it would be used to discipline him.   

  

While his hands were lashed above his head, General Rashid Kurama said some words to the GreenLeaf cadets that had been gathered and were standing at attention. This would be a demonstration that would hopefully deter any of them from disobeying their code of conduct.   

  

General Kurama also let it be known that Trowa's punishment would be severe because he had abducted one of the two Claimants - and though he did not bring the young man to harm, he could not go unpunished.   

  

Trowa knew that the punishment was fair, and he was ready for it - or so he thought.   

  

The first of the ten lashes struck the bare flesh of his back with a sharp  _crack_  of the flog. The leather tassels stung his skin and made his body tighten in response. The pain nearly winded him, but now he knew what to expect.   

  

The second lash was just as bad as the first, but at least it didn't land in the same spot - he didn't know if it was a good or bad thing. The pain made his eyes water and his hands tightened into fists in his bonds; he managed to hold back a cry, but he knew that before his punishment was done, he wouldn't be able to stifle it.   

  

The third lash came and Trowa let out a grunt of pain. His knees were starting to get weak and he knew he wasn't anywhere near done yet.   

  

The fourth lash hit, and Trowa finally screamed, unable to choke back the cry, despite the many people watching him. Closing his eyes, Trowa hoped Quatre wasn't subjected to watching Trowa's punishment.  

  

~~  

  

Back inside the castle, Heero knew what Trowa's punishment would be and he was doing his level best to distract both Duo and Quatre from thinking about the young wayward guard. Though he didn't particularly care for it, he took both young men into town where the magical lights were just beginning to glow at the close of day, and led them both to where the elves and fairies, and even some gnomes were gathering together for what appeared to be something of a festival.   

  

"What's going on here?" Duo asked curiously as a pair of elves dragged over a large barrel and another one set up what appeared to be a cooking station.   

  

"It is evening. The fey often gather in the evenings to partake in food and drink and a little entertainment. I thought you both might like to see it," Heero said stiffly.   

  

"Yeah?" Duo asked excitedly, and even Quatre was looking interested, the faraway look of sadness diminishing a little. "Wouldn't this shindig be bigger if everyone was invited?" he asked, already eyeballing an older gnome woman making apple dumplings.   

  

"Well, I didn't say this was the only dusk gathering, did I? There's dozens of smaller gatherings all over the city and beyond. They’re gatherings that reinforce the community. People are free to stay within their own area or visit with others,” Heero shrugged. “They sometimes rotate where the party is held between communities … it depends.”  

  

Duo was satisfied with that and dragged Quatre towards the dumplings, where the old woman gave them each one in exchange for a hug, something Duo had no problem doing. Quatre laughed as Duo hugged the woman, picked her up, and swung her around, earning him a second dumpling. Quatre wasn’t quite so extravagant, but she gave him a second one anyway. 

  

They walked around for a bit and were given all manner of food as they passed – grilled meat on a stick, hand-held meat pies, fresh fruit, even mead. All the while, the musicians started playing as the sun set upon the horizon.  

  

Quatre really enjoyed the music, and Duo had even pulled him in to the circle of fey that was forming in front of the performers. Men and women, young and old, elf, fairy, and gnome, all danced to celebrate the day’s end. The mirth and joy that surrounded Quatre made him feel warm and safe, so when the first wave of pain hit, he was completely blind sighted.  

  

“AHH!” he screamed, falling to his knees.  

  

The crowd around him danced, still, the musicians hadn’t heard him.  

  

Then a second jolt of pain seared his back, making him scream once again. Dimly, he heard Duo yell and the bodies around him seemed to move away, giving him room to breathe. His body convulsed as another wave of pain hit him, and then another. The music had stopped and the crowd around him had formed a loose circle. Someone was calling for guards.  

Quatre let out another scream, the pain unlike anything he'd ever felt before. Hand grabbed at him but the touch was poorly timed. It felt like fire had blossomed on his side and he couldn't help the tears that streamed down his cheeks. What was happening?! 

 

He screamed again, jerking in the strong arms that tried to hold him still. More hands were on him then and he was nearly dropped as another jolt of pain assaulted him. He dimly felt someone carrying him, running. Panic.  

 

He tried to reach out to calm the person, but then another jolt of pain surged through him. He heard a grunt and then he was falling. He never felt it, though. The last thing he felt was another jolt of fire down his back and then, everything was blissfully black.  

 


	15. Big Brother Duo

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Twenty minutes before the stroke of midnight on Sunday night - that counts as "this weekend". 
> 
> As usual, this is unbeta'ed. I'm sorry for typos and any other mistakes. I wanted to get this out in the timeframe I sort-of promised.
> 
> Also - foul language. It seems to be the norm when Duo is around. Sorry. X.x

**Chapter 15**

* * *

 

Duo was having a blast! The food was delicious, the music was lively, hell! Even Heero looked like he was having a good time. Duo had managed to grab a hold of Quatre and had dragged the slightly smaller young man into the dance circle. Someone had stopped him to put flowers and bells in his braid, and was chatting him up a little when he suddenly _felt_ Quatre scream. 

 

Looking wildly around, Duo spotted Quatre next to another elf girl who seemed to have been in the process of putting a flower crown on top of his golden head when Quatre doubled over. The girl looked frightened and was frozen to the spot, eyes wide. 

 

“Shit!” Duo swore, pulling away from the elves that were trying to play with his hair. He moved quickly, but with so many people in the way, it felt like he’d NEVER get there. 

 

“MOVE!” he bellowed, his magic crackling around him. People immediately moved away – all of them could feel the dark magic coursing through him and immediately gave him a wide berth. Even the girl that had frozen by Quatre scurried away. 

 

“HEERO!” Duo screamed, adding desperately “Someone fucking find HEERO!” 

 

With people moving out of the way, Duo got to his knees where Quatre was convulsing. He reached out towards the blonde and immediately snapped his hand back when he felt the blow of a flog on his back. He knew that feeling and someone was going to PAY!

 

“FUCK!” he screamed, looking around him to see where that had come from, ready to beat them to the ground but found no one near enough to hit him. Instead, he saw countless pairs of eyes just staring at him in shock and fear, and then FINALLY, Heero pushed through the crowd. 

 

“What happened?” Heero asked, looking ready to murder someone. 

 

“I don’t know – he collapsed. He-” Duo began, but was cut off when Quatre screamed again. 

 

Heero swore under his breath and gathered Quatre in his arms. He got a few steps in before he felt the sting of a lash on his back, making his knees buckle and causing him to lose his balance. As he descended with Quatre in his arms, he saw Duo move, fast as lightning, to try and steady him. He felt another lash, and he couldn’t help the grunt that escaped him and beside him, Duo also let out a gasp of pain as Quatre let out another whimper 

 

"MOTHER FUCKER!" Duo bellowed, just barely catching himself before he also hit the ground hard. 

 

Heero let out a grunt and got his feet back under him, but Quatre was limp in his arms. "We need to get him back inside the temple," he said, making sure Quatre was secure in his arms before pushing his way through the crowd, watching with mouths gaping. 

 

"Nothing to see here, folks!" Duo chirped, following behind Heero. "Go back to what you were doing. Quat's gonna be fine!" He added, using some of his charm and magical ability to drain some of the fear from the group. It wasn't something he did consciously, but it worked in their favor. 

 

Duo hurried after Heero, who had broken into a steady trot as he ran toward the temple. It was impressive to see that man run with another person in his arms and look like he wasn't even getting a little winded. 

 

Show off. 

 

Duo ran along behind him as Heero made his way through the courtyard gates, admiring Heero's sexy ass as he ran in _perfect_ form up the stairs and into the temple proper. Seeing him leave his sight for a moment made Duo put a little more steam in his step to catch up. 

 

As he ran, he noticed the lights in the sconces flare up and so he was able to follow Heero into a room that looked like an atrium where he placed the limp, pale body of their friend on a stone protrusion that at this point served as a sort of bed. 

 

As Duo approached, Heero pointed his finger at the ceiling, flinging a pale blue spark towards the ceiling and within moments, elves in robes were flooding into the room. 

 

"What happened?" the priestess demanded as she entered the room, already, there were acolytes surrounding Quatre, offering up healing spells. 

 

Heero was about to answer, but Duo beat him to it. "What happened?! He fucking collapsed at the party outside! When I touched him, it felt like I took a lashing to the back! FUCK! He screamed and thrashed and no one could do a thing to HELP! When Heero picked him up - _you_ felt it too, didn't you?!" Duo demanded. 

 

Heero nodded, looking a little pale. "I couldn't ground him," he admitted. "Quatre was in pain, and I couldn't ground him like I'm supposed to. I felt lashes on my skin at the same time that he was in pain. Y-You don't suppose - "

 

The priestess looked a little uncomfortable, as did some of the acolytes - specifically the pair that had already tended to another flogging that very evening. 

 

"Suppose what?!" Duo snapped. "What the HELL happened to him? To us?"

 

"Trowa was … disciplined this evening…" Heero began, starting to feel uncomfortable around Duo for once. 

 

"And?" Duo demanded, the blackish-purple aura around him becoming visible to everyone around him, a sure sign that he was getting angry. 

 

"And he was flogged for abducting Quatre shortly after sunset, if they kept to the schedule," he finished stoically.

 

"They did WHAT to him?!" Duo roared. "FUCK THIS SHIT! You- MOVE," he hissed at one of the acolytes with his hands over Quatre's body. The young man quickly scurried away and Duo put a glowing hand on Quatre's chest, all the while glaring at Heero. "You and I are going to talk about this in private," he said, with a menacing voice that made every person in the room shiver. 

 

His eyes softened a little as he focused on Quatre, who was still looking pale. 

 

"Don't worry little brother… you'll be okay," he said softly. He really wasn't sure what he was doing, but he fixed Quatre's disheveled clothing, brushed the blonde locks off his pale forehead, and arranged his arms in a way that was a little more comfortable. The entire time, his hands glowed, and Quatre began to breathe easier. 

 

Slowly, his eyes fluttered open and dazed eyes looked up at Duo. 

 

"Duo?" he whispered tiredly, "Wh-where's Trowa? He's… he's hurt…" 

 

"Shh… it's okay. Trowa will be okay. Just relax. I'm going to help you sleep, okay? You'll feel better when you wake up." 

 

Quatre nodded a little but as his eyes fluttered shut again, he whispered, "Find Trowa for me. Make sure… he's… safe." 

 

And then Quatre was dead to the world, utterly exhausted and grateful for the dreamless sleep that came. 

~~

 

Once Quatre was asleep and resting peacefully, he was gently transported back to his room under Duo’s watchful eye. The protectiveness he felt towards the presumably younger man was fierce to say the least. Once he made sure Quatre was tucked in, he dragged Heero out into the hallway and pretty much exploded.

 

“Where the _fuck_ is Trowa?”

 

“He’s being held in detention…” Heero began. It wasn’t often that he was cowed, but seeing his lover bristling with dark magic made even the bravest and strongest of elves think twice about crossing him. Heero knew Duo had the power to neutralize magic, and with elves being made _of_ magic, there was no telling what he could accidentally do.

 

As if on cue, the black staff that he’d taken from the artifact room appeared in Duo’s hand, the violet-black blade appearing at the end of it looking as sinister as anything Heero had ever seen pulsing. “You’re going to take me to him and then we’re bringing him back,” Duo demanded.

 

“I can’t. He’s being-”

 

“Heero. Now,” Duo said in an eerily quiet voice that made Heero’s blood run cold.

 

Heero nodded and turned on his heel. He didn’t like arguing with Duo, and though they were lovers, he did remember his place. Duo was still a claimant and Heero was nothing if not a good soldier. He led the way out of the temple proper and through the training yards. He paused only momentarily to speak to one of the GreenLeaf soldiers on duty that they needed to see General Kurama. Once the guard left, Heero and Duo continued their way around the barracks and down the tunnel where the caves were used as detention cells.

 

When they found Trowa, he was laying on his front on a cot. His back was riddled with welts and marks that would later turn to bruises, but only one or two had broken any skin. It was obvious that the person administering the lashes did not intend to harm him. Still, the punishment had not been very light.

 

“Open the door, Heero,” Duo demanded.

 

“I can’t.”

 

“Why the hell not?!” Duo seethed.

 

“Because the cell will only open with my authority,” another voice boomed, making Duo jump a bit.

 

Duo rounded on the man, and stopped short. “Holy hell! Are you a giant or something?!” he gaped. “Who are you?” The other elves around him became nervous, but Duo didn’t seem to notice.

 

“I am General Rashid Kurama. And you are the claimant, Master Duo Maxwell. You should not be here.”

 

“Look, you can’t tell me where I can and can’t be and you need to let my buddy out now. He’s needed back with Quatre.”

 

“I’m afraid I can’t do that. He still has another twenty hours of incarceration to-”

 

“Rashid,” Duo’s voice became eerily calm again, his scythe in hand pulsing, “I’m trying to be cool and play by the rules, but if you don’t open T-man’s cell right now, I’m going to cause so much damage to your place here that you won’t be able to hold _anyone_ in it. You _are_ going to release Trowa, _now_. After what you’ve lot done to Quatre, giving Trowa back to him is the least you can do.”

 

Rashid’s brow furrowed, “What has happened to Master Quatre?”

 

“Same thing that happened to Trowa, it seems” Duo deadpanned. “He’s asleep now, but for all intents and purposes, he was lashed in public. I would know – I got to feel it once or twice too.”

 

Rashid paled and hastily took the keys from his belt, going through them quickly. He unlocked the iron doors with gloved hands since elves could be poisoned by iron, and pushed the door aside. He looked over at Heero, giving him a curious look, “Pardon me for saying, General Yuy, but aren’t you a white cloak? Didn’t you try and ground him?”

 

Heero’s face took on a pinched look as his hands clenched into fists by his sides. “I attempted to, but I could not. His magic is too strong, too raw, and - ”

 

“And the pain of the lashes literally brought Heero to his knees,” Duo snapped, his scythe disappearing as he stepped into the cell to look Trowa over.

 

Rashid looked both impressed and shocked. Heero was known to have exceptional stamina and a very high pain tolerance. If Heero could be brought down from just trying to ground the blond, then the only thing that made sense was that somehow the pain, if it had indeed been from Trowa’s punishment, had been amplified.

 

Trowa, meanwhile, slowly began to waken. At first he’d thought he was dreaming but the voices wouldn’t go away. That’s when he realized he was no longer alone in his cell.

 

“What’s going on?” he asked, slowly lifting himself up to a seated position. Duo was close to him and looking over him appraisingly.

 

“Get up. You’re coming with us,” Duo told him, making Trowa look between Duo and General Kurama in surprise.

 

“But it’s not time yet,” he protested verbally while getting up, looking for his shirt.

 

“You are free to go with Master Duo,” Rashid conceded. “But… I expect you to report tomorrow evening in my office. We still have some matters to settle,” he added, but motioned for Trowa to exit the cell.

 

Trowa didn’t have to be told twice! He gathered his shirt and shoes, albeit stiffly, and followed Heero and Duo out of the detention hall and back towards the wing of the temple that housed the living quarters.

 

They made their way back in silence. Trowa desperately wanted to ask what was happening, but he could tell from Heero’s stiff posture and Duo’s seething silence that now was probably not the best time to be asking questions. He knew something had to be wrong with Quatre and he hurried along, despite his aching back or the way the shirt he’d donned made the sensitive skin burn.

 

When they arrived at Quatre’s quarters, Duo just barged in, without even knocking. Frowning, Trowa followed and stopped dead in his tracks.

 

Quatre looked so pale and drained! What had they done to him?!

 

“Quat?” he whispered, coming close to the younger man. He took a seat at the edge of the bed and trailed gentle fingers over the pale skin of his face. “Quat… what happened?”

 

“He’s had a very… draining day,” Heero said, coming up behind Trowa. “He’s been through a lot and he needs rest. You were able to ground him before. He needs that from you again. They asked too much of him today. You and I can speak more of it tomorrow morning when we go down for morning katas, for now, just stay with him and do – whatever it is you do to center him.”

 

Trowa nodded silently, knowing that Heero was admitting to being unable to ground Quatre in this state. It was a _big_ deal for Heero to admit it, and even more humbling for the general to concede that a lowly GreenLeaf like Trowa was better able to be a conduit than the General of the WhiteLeaf guard.

 

“I’ll take care of him,” Trowa agreed easily. He was hurt, but he would protect Quatre and ground him and be whatever Quatre needed him to be.

 

“We will take our leave then,” Heero said taking Duo’s arm and walking him to the door. “I will come get you before daybreak for the morning katas. Try to get some rest.”

 

Trowa nodded, but didn’t turn to see them out. He relaxed a little when he heard the door close behind them and footsteps fade down the hall.

“What happened to you, little one?” he whispered, running his fingers through Quatre’s hair.

 

Quatre stirred a little under the gentle touch and lazily opened his eyes. “Trowa?” he whispered.

 

“I’m here,” Trowa smiled, shifting on the bed. He winced a little as the fabric on his shirt brushed against his welts and the way his sore body protested movement, but tried to push it away. Quatre needed him.

 

“You’re hurt,” Quatre whispered, reaching out a hand to catch Trowa’s. Entwining their fingers together, Quatre managed to sit up a little. “Let me see.”

 

"Quatre, I'm fine," Trowa protested, trying to get the human to lie down. "I'm here to protect you, not the other way around. Sleep. You need rest."

"You lie down first," Quatre argued. "I'll lie down after I see."

 

 Sighing, Trowa nodded and stretched out on the bed, face down after having removed his loose shirt. He knew Quatre wouldn't like it, but it had been an order, more or less.

 

Quatre hissed when he saw the  state of Trowa's back and gently traced his fingertips over the angry red welts. "I'm so sorry.... This is all because of me."

"Sh..." Trowa soothed, "It was mine. The mistakes were mine and mine alone. Don't worry. I'll be okay."

 

"But... I can't rest until you're well," Quatre whispered, his voice taking a far away quality as his hand traced over the blemishes on Trowa's skin.

 

Trowa relaxed under Quatre's gentle touches, not realizing that Quatre had healed him.

 

For his part, Quatre promptly fell into a dreamless sleep once Trowa's back was healed. In the morning, he would have no memory of healing his elf.

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to the loyal reviewers I have - y'all make me *want* to keep writing. I love you all!  
> Io and Shen, you two have been with me since pretty much the beginning and your consistent feedback makes me want to keep you both happy. That's not to say I don't appreciate my other reviewers! I do! I love you all! It's just that these two in particular have been prodding me for a long while now and I believe that special credit is due them.


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